


Spite

by XxTheDarkLordxX



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, Adorable Draco, Canon Death, Dark Harry, Emotionless Harry, Eventual Smut, F/M, Happy Ending, Harry observes people, Hogwarts, Like I just want to bottle him up forever, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mature Harry, Slow Updates, Slytherin Harry, Smart Harry, Spiteful Harry, Time Skips, Well beyond his years, snarky Draco
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2018-12-20 10:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11918910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTheDarkLordxX/pseuds/XxTheDarkLordxX
Summary: The Dursley’s told Harry that he was abnormal and would amount to nothing. So, he decided to do the opposite. They told him that he would end up the same way as his parents. So, he decided to prove them wrong. They told him he wasn’t smart. So, he studied until he could honestly say he had surpassed them. They told him that he was a freak. So, he refused to take that as an insult.Harry decided that despite the Dursleys, he would prevail. Despite what they thought of him, he would make it out on top.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is another instance where my brain refused to focus on anything else. I will update my mini series within the next two-ish days! That is a semi-promise that is meant to be taken seriously but don't hold me to it. If you are new to my stories, ignore me, I like to think I am funny. (God knows why.) Without further ado...
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> Warning- I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. All rights to the characters are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. The only thing is mine is the way I spin the story. It is for entertainment only and not part of the official story line.

            Everyone has something that drives them forward. Something that makes getting out of bed each day _worth_ it. Something that makes their mundane life _mean_ something. It doesn’t have to be anything big, occasionally it is the opposite. But it is in the back of one’s mind daily, it is the reason for it all. The momentum that keeps them moving—never pausing.

            What once drove someone as a child might not necessarily be the same thing keeping them going as an adult. Ideas that were thought of as a teenager are as flightless as the rebellion stage that was once adopted to get back at their parents.

            There is a limitless amount of reasons that might drive someone’s ideals or motivate their life. Some choose to strive for money while others might only chase happiness. Family could be the glue that holds their existence together or they may choose the solitude of independence that fills their life. There are some that crave power while other’s solely use peace as their inner fuel. Going through life as an adventure could be what drives some, while others choose a more passive approach. Love could be the predominant notion that energizes people, while knowledge pushes others. Attention can be the spotlight that some thrive on, while others need obscurity to function. 

            Everyone is different and their motivations are their own—something that no one can take away. Those who use peace shouldn’t look down on those who crave power. Doing something that is different doesn’t mean that it is wrong. While one may look at life in bright colours and shapes, their neighbour may only see hues of darkness and blobs. It is an individuality that becomes the underlying concept of humanity.

            Observation is a keen tactic that can glean all kinds of perception. When one simply watches with an open mind and not an ounce of bias, there are lessons that can be alluded and knowledge written clear as day.

            As a young child, not given many opportunities in life, Harry’s salvation was observing others. Watching how they move, act and behave. So much can be said about a person simply by how they hold themselves. He watched his family, neighbours and even strangers. Watched how they lived and observed their interactions with others.

            The most puzzling thing about people was the wide diversity that defines them all. He could sit at a nearby park and watch hundreds of people and not a single one of them would be the same as anyone else. Subtle things and shifting behaviours will always separate one person from another.

            It takes a lot to define somebody and even more to _understand_ them. Which is why Harry just didn’t like people. They were too unpredictable in some aspects, while horribly boring and foreseeable in others. They didn’t always fit certain moulds while other times they were the same as their neighbours. It led to a chaotic society but liberating at the same time.

            The more Harry observed, the more he began to wonder what kind of person he was. Who would he shape into? What kind of mould would he represent? Would he be unique or just a prepackaged one that had been previously manufactured? Would he follow in other’s footsteps or create his own? Listen to the power of others or find his own voice? A natural born leader or perhaps a well-rounded follower? Who exactly was Harry Potter, and how did he find the answer to that? Where was he supposed to discover just who he was?

           Harry wanted to know if he would one day be driven by money like his Uncle or strive to conformity like their neighbours. Would attention influence him as it did his Aunt or would gluttony be the answer like his cousin? Would he be unique with nothing to go off of? Draw up his own existence without a blueprint? Or would he be a simple mould that was used to cast hundreds of others?

            The answer to life didn’t necessarily matter, it was _how_ one got there that did. It was what motivates people that interested Harry. He didn’t care about the purpose of what his life was to be, but more what happened along the way.

            Harry had always known that he was different. Observing others didn’t leave him with a blind spot to his own life. The way his family treated him had gone past explanations or even common sense. There was a hatred that seemed to go deeper than the surface of feelings they showed.

            The lack of care, love and affection towards Harry while the Dursleys showered Dudley with an excess of it all, led him to believe that he was _supposed_ to resent this. He was _supposed_ to grow up craving what was never given to him. It had taken a step back and a simple moment to observe his life as if he were observing strangers, to understand it all. If he was to do as he was _supposed_ to, then he would form attachments to anyone who showed him an ounce of kindness. The emotions of finally having what had been missing would overcloud his judgment. Harry didn’t want to do as he was _supposed_ to. He didn’t want to do as he was told. He didn’t want to be as predictable as the ones he watched. Harry didn’t want to be a casting built out of the same plaster as everyone else.

            Whatever it was that caused the Dursleys to despise him didn’t matter at the end of the day. To Harry, it didn’t matter if they were justified or perhaps even mental. Whether they changed or not, wasn’t the issue. Their behaviour had already kickstarted his path in life. Dwelling on their reasons would get him nowhere. What did matter, was what he did going forward.

            The Dursley’s told him that he was abnormal and would amount to nothing. So, Harry decided to do the opposite. They told him that he would end up the same way as his parents. So, he decided to prove them wrong. They told him he wasn’t smart. So, he studied until he could honestly say he had surpassed them. They told him that Dudley would always be better than him. So, he buckled down until it was obvious that they were wrong. They told him that he was a freak. So, he refused to take that as an insult. They told him that without them, he would be nothing. So, Harry decided that despite the Dursleys, he would prevail. Despite what they thought of him, he would make it out on top.

            After coming to his conclusions, Harry realized that he found his motivation in life. Money, happiness, love, power, peace; _none_ of that is what would propel him forward. Attention, family, obscurity, adventure; _none_ of that would influence who he was.

            Spite. _That_ is what would define him. Being told how he would live his life, when it should happen or how it should be done, would guarantee that he would do the opposite. In spite of what people thought of him, he would prevail. In spite of the negativity surrounding him, he would succeed. Everyone could keep their materialistic possessions that motivates them, they could keep their money and even their fame. He wanted _none_ of it. Spite was the answer to who he was. Spite was the thing that kept him going and spite would be the answers to everything.


	2. Tell Me

            “Harry, yer a wizard.” Such a simple statement, however it was anything but.

            Harry observed the nearly inhumanly tall man with consideration. He noticed the burns, scrapes and dirt that littered his skin. This was someone who worked outside on a daily basis but also worked hard. There was an overly cheerful aura to him that led Harry to believe that the man had seen a time when happiness wasn’t there. The way the man’s shoulders were slightly hunched showed him that the guy didn’t use his height as an intimidation tactic. There wasn’t an ounce of confidence to him but heaps of awkwardness oozing outward. Hagrid was a follower. Not someone worth his time.

            He spent more time watching Hagrid than he had spent on the ‘revelation’ of him being a wizard. He had already suspected _years_ ago that he wasn’t like everyone else. Had known that he could do odd things that defied common sense. Harry may not have had a teacher or someone to mold his magic like other people but he had never needed anyone else. There had been an understanding between himself and his magic. It took but a few weeks for him to realize that _he_ was the one that was to bend it to his will not the other way around. There was this raw untapped energy inside of him that had just been waiting to be let out.

            There were benefits to having magic but essentially it was just a tool to guide him and not the main event. His mind was far greater than his magic ever would be. He imagined that thousands of people had magic but just having it meant nothing unless they used knowledge _with_ magic. It was the same thing as power. If everyone in the world had power then it was up to the ones who had the knowledge to wield it, to take charge.

            Learning magic did hold a certain temptation but he knew without a doubt that he would be expected to conform. He wouldn’t be able to learn magic from his own energy. It would be a forced upon him by someone else’s standards. This didn’t sit well with him. On instinct, he wanted to say no.

            Harry read over the letter Hagrid handed him, it was generic at best and provided nothing but his admittance. It was written as if this was a formality and not a choice. As if he was _supposed_ to go. Which naturally didn’t fit who he was.

            “Thank you, but no.” Harry decided on a firm negative but yet still polite. Being rude would limit his options and the people he could sway.

            “No?” The incredulous tone did nothing to sway him or even to reconsider. Whether he remained with the Dursleys or went to Hogwarts, the result would be the same. He would be stuck somewhere with his free will restricted. At least with the Dursleys, he had a chance to keep his own freedom with his magic. He could continue as he had been without interference from other wizards or magical people.

            “But yer famous. Yer parents were famous.”

            Harry tilted his head to the side as he hummed in thought. This was a complication. One that could potentially ruin things. Famous. Nothing wrong with being famous, nothing wrong with being in the spotlight, but only if that is something he wished for. Only if the reasons made sense to his own plans. The circumstances would matter. What had happened to make him famous would be the catalyst to his decision.

            “Why?”

            Hagrid shifted uneasily and shot the Dursleys a nervous look, as if he didn’t want to speak about it in front of others. That wouldn’t do. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was leaving with this man without knowing everything first hand.

            “I won’t leave with you until you tell me.” Harry told him calmly as he sat down on the lumpy couch Dudley had been sleeping on. “I don’t need _you_ but it would appear that you need _me_.” This was becoming clear by the panic in the man’s eyes. For some reason, his presence at Hogwarts was important. He wanted to know why.

            Harry listened to the fumbled attempts at saying the man who killed his parents’ name. Listened the rushed but vague explanations of their death. He listened to the blatant admiration Hagrid held for Albus Dumbledore. Listened to the unknown circumstances that led him being targeted that night and the sheer illogical reasons he was still alive.

            “Load of old tosh.” Uncle Vernon spat out. For once, Harry had to agree with him. This was hardly anything but gossip. No facts, not even knowledgeable assumptions. There was nothing of substance that was said. It was obvious that the circumstances behind his parents’ death weren’t widely known. Whatever the reasonings either vanished with this ‘Voldemort’ _or_ someone else knew.

            Logically, since Dumbledore had been the one to place him with the Dursleys, it would make sense that he would be privy to this knowledge. The letter had been titled with his address and even the fact that he was living under the stairs. It would show that the wizarding world had many different ways of doing things in depth. To Harry, this showed that Dumbledore knew of his living quarters and did nothing.

            This new piece to the puzzle didn’t upset him anymore than living with them had. Emotions aren’t something that he allows to rule his mind. He was indifferent to it all. Usually, the reasons behind things don’t interest Harry. But not this time. He was highly curious about what Dumbledore had been thinking. Not because he wanted an explanation on the motives of placing him with the Dursleys. They didn’t matter. They were just a blimp on his current path that would be nothing but a teeny speck on his review mirror later on in life. He was curious about the circumstances behind the original attack on him.

            His parents’ death didn’t necessarily interest him either. It wasn’t as if he knew them or even cared what happened. They were gone and not coming back. Dwelling on the past would get him nothing but a crushed spirit and a bad taste for revenge. _If_ he had been a target _with_ his parents, then logically it would suggest that he could once again become under attack. Hagrid had said it was possible Voldemort was still alive.

            Since he wasn’t in the mood to potentially die, it would seem that he would have to reconsider some things. There was _so_ much that was left unanswered. He was getting a _very_ biased retelling here. He knew from personal experience that there was truth in both sides of an issue. If one was to believe the Dursleys, he was an uncontrollable child who needed a harsher care in life. That wasn’t even close to the truth. So, while Hagrid was telling him all of this, it was entirely possible that there was truth elsewhere as well. He didn’t want a biased retelling. He wanted to deal in just facts, without emotions involved.

            “If I choose to accept admittance, will it prohibit me from leaving should I ever change my mind?”

            “Why would you ever wan’ to leave?” That right there was causing Harry to lose the little respect he held for the man to evaporate.

            “The wizarding world may want me but that is yet to be decided by _me_.” Harry told him with a pitying look. “I will attend your school but I will not sign anything nor will I commit to anything outside of academics. Should I find better opportunities in learning magic, then I will have the freedom to leave.” He was positive that there were other magical schools in the world. It wouldn’t make sense for their to only be one. Just because Hogwarts was the first one to approach him didn’t mean that he would be forced to stay.

            Hagrid scratched his head. “I suppose I ough’ to let Dumbledore know.” The man pulled out a piece of paper and what looked to be a quill of some kind.

            Harry turned to his Uncle and could already see the red face that would signify a tantrum of some kind.

            “I will be going.” He didn’t ask for permission, nor was he going to pretend to. Being told no would only push him that much further into his decision. Which was something that his family knew well.

            When Harry looked away from his Uncle, he noticed that Hagrid was looking at him in a confused and worried manner. He wasn’t sure if it was the things that he had said, his demeaner or something else. None of which concerned him.

            “Lead the way.” Harry gestured for the man to do whatever was to come next.

* * *

 

           

            Walking into the Leaky Cauldron was an eye opener in several ways. Harry was able to gleam just how the world viewed him and it was something he did _not_ like. They knew nothing about him but chose to see him as some kind of godsend. As if as a baby he had had the mental capacity to _know_ how to get rid of the dark wizard. It was illogical to see him as anything but someone who had gotten lucky by unforeseen circumstances.

            The simpering tones, shoved hands in his face, pleased greetings and joyous looks had him cringing on the inside. Not a single person here was someone that he would be able to respect. If they viewed an eleven-year-old this way, then they had issues. If they were able to invade his personal space as if they had some right to do so, then they were mistaken.

            Harry cleared his throat and watched as everyone eagerly leaned forward to hear what he had to say.

            “I don’t know any of you but I would appreciate it if you could keep a respectable distance away from me. For some reason, you think it is acceptable to forgo manners and invade my personal space. If you would like to talk to me in a dignified manner, then we can start over.” Perhaps, being rude did accomplish things.

            The silence that followed his statement was a breath of fresh air. He followed Hagrid out of the room and didn’t have to shake a single hand. A positive if he had ever seen one.

            “Didn’ have to be so rude.” Hagrid grumbled under his breath as he tapped bricks in an odd sequence.

            “Perhaps.” Harry conceded. “But I was not the one to start it. However, I will _always_ be the one to finish it.”

            Hagrid didn’t speak to him other than to answer the occasional question or to point out what he would need to get.

            Discovering that he had money that had never been disclosed to him, did not help Dumbledore’s name in his books. There seemed to be a lot of things that the man had chosen to keep him in the dark about. Which would be ceasing. No one would run his life.

            “You’ll wan’ to get a pet. They can be useful.”

            Harry acknowledged this by making his way towards the pet shop. Upon entering, it was clear that owls were the main selling point. Students everywhere were buying them or fighting over who would get which one.

            “Owls will deliver mail.” Hagrid told him when he had bypassed the hooting and screeching being done by the birds.

            “While that may have importance, it does not make sense to use something to deliver mail that would stand out. An owl in the daytime draws unneeded attention and the upkeep does not fit my living situation.” Having an owl with the Dursleys would be akin to abuse to the poor creature. He wouldn’t be able to let it out during the day and any noise it would make would surely anger his Uncle. Letting it out repeatedly at night could still attract his neighbors’ attention.

            Once past the horribly loud birds, Harry was able to see a quieter side of the shop. One that probably didn’t have a lot of visitors. He noted that Hagrid had not followed him, which was a blessing.

            “First year?” A woman with long flowing blonde hair asked as she looked inside a tank of snakes.

            The way the woman held herself and her appearance, Harry could tell that she was from money and held a significant amount of power. There was a confidence that showed she usually got what she wanted and an attitude that was to put off people she deemed less then herself. She had sized him up in a few seconds before looking back to her task, showing that she had the intelligence to make an opinion of him but also know that more meets the eye, for she didn’t snub him immediately. This was a leader but possibly a follower if pushed. Someone he had yet to decide if he wanted to get to know.

            “Reluctant first year.” Harry corrected as he observed the way she watched the snakes with an intense longing.

            That had her giving him her full attention. A pale eyebrow lifted. “Is that so?” She gave him another once over. “Muggleborn who didn’t want to leave home?”

            The question puzzled Harry but not embarrassed him. He couldn’t be punished for not knowing their world when he had never been given the opportunity to do so.

            “Leaving home was not the issue. I didn’t care to come to Hogwarts.” Her eyebrows lifted so high, he wondered if they would get stuck in her hairline. “It was _suggested_ that I was in need of attendance.”

            The woman narrowed her eyes in consideration before she stuck out her hand. “Narcissa Malfoy.”

            Typically, a handshake wouldn’t seem important but it changed with each person who offered. This was a woman who didn’t associate with certain people. With the way she had first regarded him, he would not normally be someone she would have offered her hand to. However, there had been something about him that she had seen to reconsider. This led him to believe that she was an observer too.

            “Harry Potter.” He told her when their palms had connected. There was a slight shake of her hand at his name but nothing had shown on her face. Which was something that Harry admired. It showed that she was someone who didn’t succumb to emotions. He liked that.

            “I see.”

            That had Harry’s head tilting slightly in thought as he dropped his hand. He believed that she did see or possibly understand more than others. Or at the very least, more than Hagrid.

            “I won’t ask if you need help with anything, I don’t think you would take well to that.” Harry allowed a soft smile to pass his lips. She was right, he would not have liked being treated as if he was helpless.

            “But I would not mind showing you around, should you allow that.”

            Again, Harry had to marvel at how much she had picked up about him. He had never really stopped to consider that there were other people who could observe someone and pick up on their innerworkings. There was a lot to Narcissa and he was curious to find out more.

            “I am being escorted by Hagrid, but I do rather think he would be grateful to leave.”

            A calculating look entered her eyes but Harry got the impression that she was pleased by this.

            “I do however, have to pick an animal first.”

            She nodded her head and stepped to the side. “I have to finish my shopping as well. I shall meet you at the entrance.” Narcissa had waited until his nod of agreement before leaving.

            Harry looked around the animals and noticed that the snakes seemed to be the only thing worth getting. A few odd looking lizards attracted his attention but they seemed magically enhanced and not in a natural way. Toads were too loud for his comfort and the furry animals hopping around wouldn’t be happy at the Dursleys either.

            It wasn’t hard to see why Narcissa had seemed to like the snakes. There was something about them that drew him in. He had been three when he discovered that he could talk to snakes. It had been a garden snake and one of his first introductions into the belief that he was different from other people.

            **_‘Hello’_** Harry hissed quietly, as to not draw attention to himself. He wasn’t sure if this was something other wizards could do. For all he knew, this was common. But if it wasn’t, he didn’t want even more attention on him.

            He watched the previously dozing snakes lift their head up in surprise. There was a scramble as they all made their way closer to him, some fighting to see him.

_‘A speaker.’_

_‘Never encountered a human like this.’_

_‘Pick me, I will bite anyone who angers you.’_

_‘No. I am more worthy.’_

Harry sighed as he looked between them all. He didn’t want more than one but he also didn’t want a snake that warred with his own personality. He could hear them after all.

_‘Does it matter?’_ A snake in the back of the tank hissed, not turning around at all. _‘We are just mindless slaves to humans. Nothing more than common pets. We will die one day having done nothing worthwhile, just to please those who see us as weaker.’_

Perhaps this one was a tad moodier than he would like but it held a capacity for deeper thought.

            **_‘Do you have a name?’_** He wasn’t going to assume that as a human, that it meant that he was going to pick a name for the serpent. That would be presumptuous and rude.

            When the snake turned around and came forward slightly, Harry was able to see more of the coloring. The snake was all white but not in a way that would signify an albino serpent. There was no pink coloring to the eyes and the scales were different. His best guess was a new breed or a snake that had a different kind of pigment condition.

            Harry could tell that the snake was sizing him up and coming to conclusions. There was an intense concentration that was happening and he wasn’t going to speak until the snake had come to a decision.

            _‘Zila.’_

Harry nodded once as he considered the snake. **_‘I am not in need of a pet.’_** He watched the way the other snakes slithered away with complaints of him wasting their time. **_‘I am in need of a companion.’_**

            He watched the way Zila stuck out a forked tongue, as if tasting his truth.

            **_‘You will be able to come and go as you please. I will not order you around nor demand things of you.’_** That was something he told the snake with feeling. He knew what it was like to feel as if his life wasn’t his own. He would not tell Zila what to do. Because demands weren’t something he listened to, he wouldn’t require a companion to either.

            _‘There will come a time when I will seek out a mate.’_

_**‘You can do that whenever you feel like it.’**_

Another appraising look was given before Zila nodded his head in a jerky manner.

            _‘I will accept your companionship. For now. Should I change my mind, I will leave.’_

Harry smirked internally. Oh yes. This snake fit him perfectly.

            **_‘Agreed.’_ **

 

* * *

 

            After telling the cashier three times that—yes, he was sure he wanted a snake instead of an owl—was he _finally_ able to make his way towards Hagrid, who looked less than pleased to see a snake wrapped around his neck.

            “Are you sure abou’ that?” The man gestured towards the snake. “Owls are more fashionable.” As if Harry cared about something as stupid as being fashionable.

            “I have decided to collect the rest of my things alone.” He decided to ignore the questions and get right to it. “I have the list and want to experience this all by myself.”

            Relief. That was the only thing that Harry could detect from the tall man. Which was what he had expected.

            “See you at Hogwarts.” Hagrid hadn’t even waited for him to say anything before he quickly walked away—bordering on a run—straight back towards the Leaky Cauldron.

            “I see you were right.” Narcissa’s voice sounded behind him. He waited until she came to him instead of turning around.

            “I nearly always am.” He wasn’t conceited enough to say he was never wrong but it was rare of him to not have assessed a situation the right way.

            She held out her arm in a show of polite respect. Harry looped his own with hers as they began walking.

            “Would you mind if I gathered my son along the way? He is a first year as well.”

            This intrigued Harry. Somebody raised by Narcissa was no doubt someone who would be interesting.

            “Not at all.”

 

* * *

 

 

            The looks they received were interesting. He didn’t think that anyone recognized him but it was obvious that Narcissa was someone infamous. There was a certain fear to the patrons they passed, one that had him knowing that she was someone with power, a power that might not be the best morally. Which was something he had already suspected.

            Power and peace tend to be opposites but they don’t have to be. Peace for the sake of peace can be monotonous, while power without a purpose is dangerous. The meaning behind both depends on where his opinion lies. He was not going to fear Narcissa just because others do, nor was he going to buy into it unless he understood their fear.

            Fear is a powerful tactic, one that Narcissa obviously knew well. It was almost humorous the way that a lot of people sprang into attention the moment she walked into a shop, or offered such large discounts that it most likely went past a point of profit for them.

            As Narcissa gathered his things, picked out his books and offered him the knowledge for every action, Harry chose to observe the others surrounding him. The customers gave them a wide berth, almost to the point of it being ridiculous. There were a few bolder people that would meet his eyes, but the way they quickly looked away had him writing them off. None of these people were worth his time.

            “I find myself disappointed with what I have seen so far.” Harry admitted as they made their way to get his wand. “Wizards seem to be fickle and only follow others.”

            There was a pregnant pause as Narcissa paused in their path to stare at Harry. It wasn’t awkward nor uncomfortable, he knew that she was trying to come up with the right thing to say.

            “It is a lack of will and courage that is the problem.” She began with a tilt of her head as she gestured for them to continue walking. “People have thoughts, dreams and fantasies but if it is perceived as wrong, then they abandon them. The thoughts of what others believe, is what holds most wizards back. If the majority chooses to view something negatively, then the minority is shamed until their viewpoint is changed.” There was a pause as she took a deep breath.

            “A lot of wizards have a standard conformity, where their world only makes sense if it is clearly written before them and matches their peers. It isn’t necessarily that they _can’t_ be original or break the pattern, because they _can_. They lack the courage to do it. They lack the drive to go past what society deems as appropriate. You would be surprised at how many people believe as the minority do, they just don’t show it because they are afraid to break free.”

            Harry hummed in thought as he allowed this to fill his mind. He still disliked the thoughts behind it all but he could understand it better. There had been times where his Uncle had a different view than the neighbors but did nothing about it because the majority believed the opposite. His Uncle wasn’t one to keep his opinions to himself but he _wasn’t_ someone to go against the mold. It was almost ironic that someone so strong willed would conform to someone else’s viewpoints.

            His mind had been distracted all the way to the wand shop until he walked in. The way the store was set up had him curiously looking around. The lighting was far darker than other shops, which seemed to be on purpose. The towering rows of wands behind the counter seemed to be an intentional intimidation tactic. A seemingly permanent grime of dust had him furrowing his brows. Such an odd taste in décor.

            “Ah yes.” A voice spoke up from behind the shelves. It wasn’t as surprising as the man probably hoped, since that was the only area that didn’t hold dust. It had been obvious that that was where the man spent most of his days. The darkness was casting a shadow over the owner, causing Harry to only be able to gleam insight from his words and tone.

            “Yes, I thought I would be seeing you soon, Harry Potter.” An odd pause that had Harry arching a brow as he dropped his arm from Narcissa and took a step forward. “You have your mother’s eyes.”

            Harry listened to the man prattle on about the types of wands his parents had and what was located inside them. As if he should be impressed that the man knew this. As if it wasn’t his job in the first place.

            “I imagine so.” Harry began as he folded his palms on the counter. “It would seem that everyone in the wizarding world knows of me. So, my reentering into it would have been anticipated.” He pointed out dryly.

            “As for having my mother’s eyes.” He shrugged, this hadn’t been surprising either. His aunt had a similar shade, it was logical to think that since they both had similar eye colors, that his mother would have them as well. “My guess is that this was public knowledge. If their deaths were as famous as it seems, then that would not be something special to know.”

            Harry didn’t appreciate the false sense of knowledge the man seemed to parade around with. It was relatable to parlor tricks aimed at fooling the weak. There wasn’t a single thing the man said that was remotely impressive.

            A soft snort sounded behind him, which had his mouth twitching. At least Narcissa seemed to agree with him on some level.

            When the man stepped forward and introduced himself, Harry had to restrain his eye roll. The previously airy and vague attitude had been replaced with a somewhat petulant man. It would seem that Harry had struck a nerve. Oh well.

            The man was older than he had originally thought, which would make sense in a way. The fact that he remembered every wand he sold, had Harry knowing that the man had some intelligence. The way he held himself led him to believe that Ollivander was proficient in what he did and had wealth as well. The mistake in conversation at the beginning, showed that the man probably didn’t get out much and only had customers to try and impress. This was someone who had the knowledge to be a leader but a lack of conviction that had him being a follower instead. Not someone he cared to get to know.

            Ollivander leaned over the counter and pressed his face close, studying where his hair covered his scar.

            “And that’s where…” The man trailed off as he lifted a hand.

            “Touch me and I won’t be held accountable for what happens to you.” Harry whispered firmly.

            There was a definite satisfaction that filled him when the man jerked away in surprise, which had Harry scoffing internally. Ollivander acted as if it was a common thing to touch a stranger. As if this was an everyday occurrence.

            The rustling of Ollivander moving around the rows pulling out wands had Harry relaxing a little bit. At least that meant things were being hurried along.

            “I sold the wand that caused that scar.”

            Harry held in the sigh that he wanted to release. “I imagine so.” He said instead, reminding the man that he wouldn’t buy into any of this. “You are the only renowned wand maker in Diagon Alley.” The ‘where else would he have bought it’ was left out but clearly implied.

            Several attempts had been made to get Harry to try wands but something about the man’s behavior and stance let him know that this was another weird ploy. What, he had no idea.

            Harry refused to even touch them and just looked at the man pointedly until a different box was placed in front of him.

            “Eleven inches, holly and phoenix feather, nice and supple.” The way the man whispered in delight had Harry frowning. It was just assumed that this was his wand. That this would be the one he was taking home.

            “It is most curious that you should be destined for this wand.”

            _Destined._ That was a word that Harry adamantly disagreed with. _No one_ would tell him what to do and that included destiny.

            “The bird that gave the feather for the core of your wand, only dropped two feathers that day.”

            Harry hummed in understanding. He looked at the wand curiously, already knowing what the man was going to say.

            “The brother wand that held the other feather, was the one that gave you that scar.” A dramatic pause had Harry rolling his eyes.

            The man ignored him completely as he continued on. “I think that we should expect great things from you.” Harry arched his brows. “After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things. Terrible, but great.”

            This had Harry furrowing his brows as he looked towards the wand. He knew how he was _supposed_ to act and behave but he wasn’t going to. He didn’t believe in destiny nor was he going to be a slave to someone else’s dreams of grandeur.

            “No.” He didn’t bother to be polite about this.

            “Er- what?” That right there was the greatest victory of this whole trip. He had shaken Ollivander right out of his act and surprised him.

            “I don’t want that wand.”

            “The wand chooses the wizard, Mister Potter.” There was irritation in the rebuttal.

            “If you will not sell me a wand of my own choosing then I will seek someone who will.” He didn’t care how other people did things. Didn’t care about how things had been done in the past. Didn’t care that he was doing things differently. Spite was driving him and that was all that mattered.

            The glare he received had him smirking, he didn’t bother to hide it at all.

            “What is it you _think_ you want in a wand?”

            Harry tilted his head to the side as he considered the question. He had listened to the different things that made up all the wands that had been mentioned. Listened to the inflections in the man’s tone when he had spoken and listened to his own inner instincts driving him forward.

            “I want a wand carved out of Yew, Mahogany and Willow.” The mahogany had been said to be from his father, the willow from his mother and the yew from Voldemort. Three things that had shaped his circumstances and who he was. If he was forced to have a wand, it would be one of his own choosing.

            A grey eyebrow lifted in surprise. “And the core? What do you wish to be on the inside?”

            “Nothing.”

            The man blinked rapidly. “I have Unicorn hair, Dragon Heartstring, Veela hair, Thestral strands, Phoenix feathers, Kneazle whiskers, Dittany stalks, Coral, Horns of a serpent and many others.”

            “I know.” Harry replied simply. “I don’t want a core. You said that the cores are what make the wand unique in how they behave. I don’t want that. I want my wand to have no temperament at all. It will behave as it is intended and not have a preprogrammed mentality.” He wasn’t going to point out that he didn’t plan on using it more than he had to. He was more comfortable without a wand in the first place. He didn’t need a conduit for his magic when he could call it forth without assistance.

            “That will have to be made to order.” The hesitant reply came.

            Good. That meant that this wasn’t something Ollivander had sold to other people. Something he rather liked. “Let me know when it will be available for pick up.”

            Harry turned around and made his way towards Narcissa who seemed to be amused.

            Once outside and free of the confining space and dust that seemed to have gotten on him, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

            “You intrigue me, Mister Potter.” The admittance was a victory in a way. Narcissa was not someone to offer up a compliment for nothing. Which this was a compliment.

            “That goes both ways Mrs. Malfoy.”

            Her easy smile and slight brightness to her eyes was something that Harry had never experienced before. People don’t tend to agree with him on things, let alone genuinely like him.

            Upon entering their next destination, Harry liked to see that the robe shop was nearly empty. There was only the owner and a boy with pale blonde hair that matched Narcissa’s.

            “Mother, please don’t leave again. You have no idea the incompetence I have had to put up with in your absence.”

            The way Narcissa smiled slightly and her features softened let Harry know that she cared for her son a lot.

            “You are the one who did not want to enter the pet shop.” She remined him as she cupped his cheek.

            The boy huffed but went a little pink at the touch. “Well those bloody owls are too loud. I didn’t fancy getting a headache this early in the day.” He looked away from his mother’s knowing gaze and discovered Harry.

            When their eyes locked, Harry found himself in a peculiar situation. He had never quite seen eyes such a shade before. Which shouldn’t be what his mind was focusing on. There were far better things to observe than something so insignificant. It took him far longer than he would care to admit, to look at the rest of him.

            The confident way the other boy held himself showed Harry that he was raised to embody things that Narcissa herself employed. There was a wealth to him that was clear by the pristine robes. Control was something he craved, that was obvious by the way slick blonde hair was rigidly in place with no room for escape. There was a slight entitlement to his aura but that was most likely a byproduct of his raising. Knowledge sparkled inside of silver eyes, this was someone who held intelligence. A _nearly_ blank expression let him know that this was someone who controlled their emotions but sometimes couldn’t. The spark of defiance the boy had shown when being chided by Narcissa showed that he didn’t always do as he was told. There were subtle differences in the type of clothes that Narcissa and her son wore. This went further than gender and showed that he made his own choices. The close way he had regarded his mother and looked towards her at times of approval let Harry know that her opinion was highly valued. This boy was a leader but could be influenced by family into possibly being a follower. Someone that he would like to get to know.

            The boy held out his hand when more silence passed and no one said a word. “Draco Malfoy.” Harry watched the way the boy looked to his mother briefly, recalling that he must have entered with her. “Pleased to meet you.”

            The curious thing was that Draco meant it. For some reason, Narcissa’s approval of him had been the only confirmation the boy needed to approve of Harry as well. Typically, that would disappoint Harry because he liked people to form their own opinions without outside influence, but not this time. For some reason, he found this endearing and that was an almost nauseating realization. Since when did he find anything endearing?

             “Harry Potter.” When their palms met, a warmth spread along his arm and into his magic. Both their eyes widened but Harry wasn’t sure if Draco’s was because of his name or if he had felt the heat too. _What was that?_

            Harry looked to Narcissa and noticed that she seemed pleased about something and a little smug. He had no idea why that would be but he wasn’t going to ask. He dropped his hand when he realized that he had been holding it far too long to be considered normal.

            A light pink flush marred Draco’s cheek as he looked to the ground for a moment before looking back at Harry.

            There was a determination to the boy that confused him just as much as it made him wish to understand more. Why was this boy so intriguing? They hardly shared a few words with each other and yet, he was feeling as if things had progressed further.

            “Mister Potter.” Narcissa’s voice had him mentally forcing his eyes to leave Draco’s. “Would you mind if my son took over from here? My husband is in need of some ingredients away from Diagon Alley.” The shop owner coughed in a pointed manner, one that had Harry arching a brow and Draco sneering.

            Harry turned to the shop owner and narrowed his eyes in consideration. The woman seemed to have kind eyes but they were currently looking at Narcissa in distaste. Her clothes seemed to be made out of different material and style the ones being sold, which led him to believe that she preferred other people’s stuff to her own. Which didn’t bode well for his opinion on buying from her. There way she was hunched showed him that she was constantly in positions that didn’t work well for her body as she worked. Her hands were far too unblemished for someone of her status which had him realizing that someone else made the clothes while she stuck to the front with the customers. The little in décor around the shop but her own expensive clothes let him know that she probably had come from money and didn’t actually need this store. There was nothing to her that stood out to him regarding personality. He would guess she was a follower and not a leader but there wasn’t much to go on.

            “I wouldn’t mind.” Harry answered Narcissa’s question. “Is there another robe shop? I am not liking the atmosphere of this one.”

            The outraged gasp from the owner had him sighing heavily as he refused to look her way.

            “If you would like, I can have a set of robes tailored for you.” Narcissa told him kindly. “I have a friend in the French market that designs clothes.” She looked to her son with a shake of her head. “I wasn’t going to spoil my son with them since he got the broom he had been hoping for but if I am to send out your measurements, then I might as well send out his.”

            The way Draco’s eyes lit up had Harry having to stare back at Narcissa quickly. Something was horribly wrong with him at the moment. He needed to focus and for some reason looking at Draco halted that process.

            “Thank you.” Harry told her kindly. “Please bill my account at Gringotts.” It was a warning just as much as he was doing as expected. He would not take charity or allow someone to ever say that something of his wouldn’t exist if it had not been for them.

            She acknowledged this with a tilt of her head before she leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Draco’s head. “Behave.” Narcissa warned.

            “Behave as someone of my stature or behave in a manner of horribly polite conversations and pointless small talks that bore me to death but gain father’s respect?” Draco countered as he adopted an innocent expression. One that had Harry knowing that innocent was something that Draco Malfoy had never been.

            “Behave as I would.”

            Draco let out a chuckle. “So then neither.” He nodded his head as his mother laughed all the way to the door.

            “It was an honor to meet you, Harry.” Narcissa had turned as she opened the door. The statement had Draco regarding Harry curiously. “I expect we shall meet again, soon.”

            “Then the honor will be mine.” Harry told her with a small smile. “You saved me from what would have been a horrible day. For that, you have my gratitude.”

            Harry would have liked to say that there had been a comfortable silence that filled the shop after her departure but being rudely asked to leave by the owner wasn’t something on his list of pleasant things.

            Draco huffed as he guided Harry down the path and towards an ice cream parlor. “My father would say her attitude is because her husband is a squib.” The doubtful tone to his voice had Harry curious.

            “What do you think?”

            The question seemed to startle Draco. It would appear that no one ever really asked what he thought of things. The key points that had been said about his father let him know that Draco’s father must expect certain things from him and the only opinion that was of import was his own.

            “I don’t think she likes her job very much.” Draco admitted quietly as they waited in line. “The few times I have been in there, shows her doing very little but expecting praise for her work.” The boy paused as he tried to formulate his answer. “I think that she wanted to be something more than a shop owner but settled as a seamstress because it was safe.”

            Harry arched his brows in surprise and a little in admiration. It was clear that Draco had picked up his observation tactics from Narcissa.

            “I think you are right.”

            Another thing the boy probably had never heard much before. The light flush had Harry wanting to grin. Which was still a nauseating thought.

            Once they were seated and realized that Harry didn’t have anything left to pick up, they enjoyed the effortless conversations that flowed.

            Draco was unlike anyone he had ever met before. In the beginning, the boy was a little reserved and didn’t answer some questions but the more they talked and the more Harry opened up about himself, the more Draco relaxed. Harry liked to be on even footing when dealing with people. If he asked a somewhat personal question then he would answer a personal question in return. It was something that showed trust and open communication.

            There was an enthusiasm to Draco that wasn’t obvious from just a few glances. The boy could go in depth on any subject but still be humble. There wasn’t a single time where Draco had made Harry feel inadequate for not knowing of their world. The patience he showed was comforting in a way that he had never experienced.

            Draco had a dry wit that would go over some people’s heads who were dense but Harry rather liked it. The sharp tongue and quick retorts were amusing.

            “Do you know what is _really_ fascinating about the inner structures and mechanics of potions?”

            The sheer excitement that lit up grey eyes had Harry smiling softly as he rested his chin in his palms.

            “Tell me.”

            People often irritated Harry but he doubted there was a single thing about Draco that would grow tiring or frustrating. He only wished he could understand _why_ that was.

            The longer they sat there sharing bits of themselves or just talking in general, had Harry realizing that he rather liked Draco. This was a friendship that was unexpected but completely welcome. He was grateful that he had met Narcissa when he did.

            The setting sun and lanterns that were lit along Diagon Alley had them both startling at the fact that they had spent _hours_ together without it feeling as such.

            “I should get home.” There was regret in Draco’s tone and Harry found himself to be feeling the same.

            “Can we meet again? Before school?” Harry asked, surprising himself. Usually, he liked to be alone. There was no one to bother him that way.

            “I’d like that.” Draco whispered as he smiled softly. “I really enjoyed talking to you.”

            “Something that is entirely mutual.”

            His statement had Draco flushing again, something that Harry found endearing, much to his resignation.

            “I will owl you.” Draco told him before they shared another shake of hands, this one just as long as the previous.

            As Harry walked out of the shop with a respectful nod to the owner, he felt different. Not in a bad way but one that let him know that things were changing for him. He wasn’t sure where his life would take him and despite there being no control in that, he found it liberating nonetheless. Perhaps it was time for him to just enjoy the chaos of things instead of governing his life.

            **_‘Today was a good day.’_**

            Zila lifted his head up from underneath his collar and made an odd hissing noise that might have resembled a snort.

            _‘Was it? I found you to be terribly boring.’_

Harry rolled his eyes as he questioned why he had chosen this snake to be his companion.

            **_‘Careful, don’t make me return you.’_**

**** _‘It is counterproductive to threaten me with a positive.’_

Harry let out a low laugh as he conceded his loss. Zila 01- Harry 00.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the prologue said, Harry is an observer. This is something that he does throughout the whole story. So get used to it. ;P I will never not get tired of his observations. They amuse me as mush as they impress me. I do realize that you can't 'know' a person with just one glance but it is possible to get a gist of who they are when one just watches. 
> 
> Zila reminds me kind of like an emo snake, if that is even possible. 
> 
> So, Harry's motivation in life being spite, is literally my new favorite thing. A typical answer is happiness. But spite is amazing to me. This is so going to be my new life motto. Also, his level of maturity is something I envy. I was absolutely the furthest thing at eleven. Actually, let's not bring that up, I don't want to relive nightmares. :P
> 
> Draco is fucking adorable and I just want to eat him up. Non-sexually, he is eleven here. Narcissa was kind of my MVP for this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing her. I simply adore nurturing Narcissa. 
> 
> I think that is all, see you next chapter!
> 
> XxTheDarkLordxX


	3. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am very pleased with the reactions for this story. I had originally just written it down because it was an idea that just wouldn't leave me be. I didn't think it would be popular. But I am quite glad for the responses that I have received so far. I wanted to thank everyone who left me comments, if it is a multific story, I only reply to the comments after I post the following chapter. It's an odd way to keep me motivated. So as you read this chapter, you will notice that I will have replied to your previous comments. But I won't reply to this chapters comments until the next one gets posted. I know, I am weird but it keeps me coming back. I always reply, so no worries there. :P
> 
> Enjoy!

           Decisions on the surface sound elementary or effortless, which can sometimes be the case. But Harry was of the belief that they were anything but easy. Even the smallest choice or decision carries consequences.

           Staying home instead of venturing out could inadvertently save one from natural disasters or accidents. Choosing a certain food over another could protect against food poisoning. Deciding a different outlook on a situation can provide insight that otherwise would have been overlooked. Even something that seems insignificant at first, could be the answer to _everything_.

            Living with the Dursleys was a choice altogether. Realistically, at eleven he didn’t have a lot of options. He could leave but that would shape his life in ways that he wasn’t sure he was prepared to deal with. Despite the horrid treatment being done to him, their house was a consistent roof over his head. There was a certain predictability to day-to-day life with them. He knew exactly how they would behave and he knew what was to be expected of him. Leaving would throw out all sense of order and his life could potentially become chaotic.

            If he chose to leave, he knew that the Dursleys wouldn’t come looking for him. Harry wasn’t hurt with this knowledge. It wasn’t as if their opinion mattered in any way. Ignorant people with biased opinions will never be able to see past themselves to really care about someone else. Their ‘love’ for Dudley was more of an obsession. When one is too blinded by what they perceive is there instead of the truth, then their reality becomes skewed. His Aunt and Uncle were too blind to see that their son was out of control and a bully to boot. Their ‘love’ was actually debilitating instead of uplifting. So, their opinions of him were nothing to lose sleep over, because they were delusional to begin with.

            Harry always knew that leaving the Dursleys would have to wait until he not only had a better option but also something stable or worthwhile. Leaving Privet Drive just to end up somewhere that could possibly be worse was not something he was willing to risk. The unknown of what else is out there was what had always held him back. However, the decision to enter into the wizarding world changed this.

            He had the money to leave and never look back. He had the funds to choose an establishment and leave the Dursleys in the past. This would still leave him with the unknown. This could still throw his life into chaos. Was he prepared for what would happen if he left? Would the aftermath be worth it? This wasn’t a simple decision.

            The past few weeks were definitely different than the status quo. The Dursleys were thrown off by the prospect of only having to put up with him for the summer. They left him in peace and hardly bothered him at all. It was different but he knew it was just the calm before the storm. They weren’t normally ones to behave like this. Instead of worrying about what they would do once they got over the shock, Harry had spent his days reading anything and everything he could about the Wizarding World. He had started with the material of his lessons but branched out once he realized he would need more than that for a complete picture.

           Despite Narcissa’s reasons on why some wizards were the way they were. It didn’t erase his utter disappointment when he read the completely biased and washed down books. It was mass produced stupidity layered in clever formatting aimed to fool a wide audience. There was next to nothing substantial in anything he read. Even the basics of magic were washed down. The ratio of pure shite compared to legitimately useful knowledge was staggering. Useful things were only ever in the subtext and never actually the main point. It was hidden inside useless spells that would amount to nothing later on.

            He didn’t understand why only certain kinds of magic were publicized or taught. Surely, wizards realize that everyone is different and don’t learn the same way. How can they expect _everyone_ to have the same magical insight as someone else? Or even the same inclination? There was nothing in here about wandless magic or even instruments that weren’t a wand. The things he can do weren’t even mentioned in passing. It was as if they were actively promoting _their_ view on magic instead of magic as a whole. These books were aimed at conformity and not promoting individuality. This kind of society would fail in the long run. People aren’t meant to behave without free thought. Limiting their options from the beginning was doing just that. If he was to go off of the things taught in these books and _nothing_ else, then he wasn’t thinking for himself. He would be allowing them to decide for him. Which would be doing what the ones in power wanted. Which was to be molded into what they believe a wizard _should_ be and not who they really are. The option to _choose_ should be something offered.

             The lessons inside his school books were so centered around wands and magical theory instead of the magic itself. Yes, learning a spell is useful but he wanted to know more about the magic behind it. Where is it coming from? What was the thought process when making the spell? Where was the ways to draw it forward? Instead of focusing on the correct way to pronounce a spell, he wanted to know what he was to feel when calling his magic. He wanted to know the purpose of the spell more than he cared about just learning it for the sake of learning. What is the intent when using it and how was it important?

            There was so much left unanswered. It was as if the government was only teaching young wizards half the story. He got then end result and not the beginning. How was he supposed to understand a magical theory that was never explained in depth? It was as if they were saying, ‘here learn this spell and nothing else’. They left out the important parts but expected him to not be curious about the rest. He was left with a few pieces to a corrupt puzzle.

            Facts was something Harry could actively get behind but even that was missing behind a lot of things inside the books. Political aspects were so blatantly written that it was laughable. The books were grooming the impressionable youth into _thinking_ their way. Every few pages there were sentences aimed at teaching children that any spells that went _against_ what they were teaching was somehow wrong but never explained _why_.

            The best example for this was the book for his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The title of the class itself was already an issue with him. Why was there a class only dedicated to defense? If one is to _only_ be on the defense then they were putting themselves at risk for someone else’s offense. It was illogical to not teach offensive movements. One can only be on the defense for so long before their strength and will begins to fade. If they only focused on the defense then when that strength disappears, nothing will have been done to their opponent. The book that he was to learn from provided him no actual means to defend himself. Sure, it was worded to _sound_ as if they were genuinely teaching him something worthwhile but they were doing it in a biased way.

            The book spoke of the dangers to Dark Arts but _only_ ever mentioned the negative. Nothing in life is that straightforward. Nothing is only that one-sided. There is a duality to everything. He didn’t doubt for one minute that the Dark Arts could be deadly. But he wanted to know the positives too, because yes, there _had_ to be positives. There were always more questions than answers every time he turned a page. The amount of times it was blatantly stated how bad the Dark Arts was but not _why_ it was bad, was insulting to Harry. He didn’t care about what they thought or their political beliefs. He cared about the facts. He wanted to be told things without a biased opinion. How could he form his own personal belief if the authors kept giving their own? As if all readers should think the same or they were just _wrong_.

             Even a spell aimed to kill could have a positive effect if the intent behind it meant something. It reminded him of the way Veterinarians euthanize animals that have painful conditions or even carry diseases that can spread or are incurable. The morality to that raises concerns but it was something done in the muggle world. There were a few books that had _briefly_ stated the killing curse had derived from wizards thousands of years ago who had to use it as a means to control an outbreak of a deadly disease. Which was a prime example of the meaning behind the spells and why it was important to teach children more than just the end result.

            There had been books on approved methods when defending oneself but even those could be used for darker things if the intent behind it was to mean something. It was silly to think that only the Dark Arts could be bad. It was as if the wizarding world saw how bad things could get if someone evil took over but only took out one side of the problem. It wasn’t even the spells that were the issue. If someone has enough drive, they will find the means somehow or some way to accomplish their goals. Teaching children only part of the equation will leave them vulnerable to those who found a way to learn the whole picture.

            All of this left Harry with a bad taste in his mouth and a thirst for true knowledge. If he was to only teach himself what was in these books, then he would be ignorant on a lot of things. It was obvious that this wasn’t the complete picture and it just disappointed him. What was it going to take to learn from something unbiased? What was it going to take to find the means to teach himself without political beliefs? He didn’t care about the ramifications of either light or dark magic. He wanted to learn about magic as a whole. Learning one or the other would prove to be more harmful in the grand scheme of things. He needed to learn them both. It was obvious that Hogwarts was completely ignorant in the Dark Arts. They didn’t just not teach the Dark Arts, they _promoted_ against the belief of anything that warred with their own opinions.

            He didn’t want to ignore the Dark Arts in favor of learning the Light Arts, Harry just wanted to learn them both equally. Which left him in a tough position. There were several books that had mentioned other schools outside of the country but they were just the same. Sure, some like Durmstrang were centered around the Dark Arts but they didn’t proactively teach the Light Arts. Which would leave him in the same problem just reversed. Mahoutokoro, was a school in Japan but they were even more against the Dark Arts than Hogwarts. Even going as far as requiring their students to wear charmed robes that change color if the student were to learn any spells that were deemed as Dark. Leaving the student to have to face answers from their government.

            There were a few schools that seemed like they would teach a well-rounded concept of magic in general but not enough to make it worth leaving the country for. Which led him back to his decisions. What was he to do in a world that was determined to keep him ignorant?

            A few times over the past few weeks, he had spent more time with Draco. Which was an enlightening experience in several ways. It didn’t take a genius to deduce the Malfoy family were Dark Wizards. It was slightly frustrating for him to know that what he was searching for inside the horribly lacking books had been taught to Draco. Showed what certain kinds of privileges would get some people in life. He didn’t blame them for his own lapse in knowledge but it was an eye opener to how much he would have to learn if he wanted to stay ahead in life or even just to catch up.

            With them being the only wizards he actually knew, that left them with his only choice to go to, if he was to learn more than what the books were meant to teach him. This was another choice in life that could shape him. It was a decision that could change things. If he wasn’t careful, this could propel him into the politics that he already detested. He wasn’t choosing sides or even going to pretend to care about the struggles of either Light or Dark wizards. He just wanted the knowledge without the morality to it.

            Whether this was wise or not, Harry had come to a decision. Only time would tell if it was the right one.

           

* * *

           

            “You can’t leave.” Aunt Petunia told him hesitantly.

            “What?” Harry and his Uncle said at that same time, both not believing what they were hearing.

            “Pet, this is what we have been waiting for since the boy was found on our doorstep.”

            Harry nodded his head in agreement, not bothered by the insult, he too had been looking forward to leaving.

            _‘Even they don’t like you.’_ Zila hissed from inside the collar of his shirt. Harry rolled his eyes but chose not to say anything. One had to pick their battles and this was one that wasn’t worth it.

            “When I found him, a letter addressed to me had been inside his blanket.” She completely ignored Harry in favor of speaking to Vernon. “It was _suggested_ that if we didn’t take him in, we could be held accountable for any harm done to him by the ones that killed his parents.” Her words disassociated any familial connection to her sister, not that this was surprising.

            “There is some kind of protection around the house that keeps us safe.” She continued when his Uncle’s face turned many shades of red.

            Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He highly doubted the protections would keep the Dursleys safe but that it was more about him. He was highly curious that nothing was ever told to him about these protections. Why wouldn’t Hagrid have mentioned this? This was more important than anything the taller man had told him.

            “Who sent the letter?” Harry asked, drawing her cold eyes back to him. He knew she was debating about answering, deciding if keeping it from him would punish him somehow. Aunt of the year, right there.

            “Albus Dumbledore.” There was a slight fear to her voice and it made him wonder if she had somehow been threatened in the letter. Perhaps not directly but maybe with magic or just thinly veiled warnings.

            Harry sighed internally as more pieces to the corrupt puzzle were sliding into place. Why did Dumbledore care so much about how he was brought up or his life in general? It wasn’t as if he was anything to him. It wasn’t as if they were family. Why go to all the effort to shape his life? Why make all of this bigger than it needed to be? Was the man only interested in him because of what had happened with Voldemort? Or was something else the driving factor?

            “Well, I am leaving of my own volition. I neither care what Dumbledore wanted of you or me.” He shrugged as he looked to his already packed things. Finding out that the Headmaster wanted him to stay was already pushing his decision to leave that much more.

            When it looked like his Aunt might protest, Vernon picked up his suitcase and held open the door, ushering him outside quickly. Which happened to be the nicest thing the man had ever done for him.

            “We don’t know you and never come back.”

            Those were the last loving words Harry heard before the click of the lock sounded. He sighed before drawing out his wand and calling forth transportation. The sight of the triple decker bus felt as if this was the metaphorical train to his new path in life.

            As Harry held on tightly to his seat as the Knight Bus jerkily weaved in between cars, he felt at ease for the first time in a long while.

 

* * *

 

 

           There is money and then there is wealth. As Harry looked upon the Malfoy Manor, it was obvious how rich the family is. It went beyond just money of the lucky. This was old money that was well kept. Draco had said that his father dealt in politics but that definitely wasn’t the full truth. Politics wouldn’t quite get the upkeep that was required for this kind of money. His guess was that the man dealt in matters that probably pushed the line of ethical boundaries. Not that he was particularly judgmental. It was obviously working for him.

            As Harry stood at the gates on the boarder of the property, he decided to pay attention to the feel of the place rather than the aesthetics. There was a thrum of energy as he closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to work instead. The magic surrounding the Manor was powerful, which was to be expected but what interested him was that it wasn’t intimidating. One would think that with so much wealth, that the protections around the property would be off putting. But that wasn’t the case. It was actually the opposite. The only thing he could detect was an almost encouraged energy circulating. It was a little confusing and had him wondering what was the intent behind that.

            Before he could dig any deeper, there was a clang of metal that sounded, causing him to open his eyes. There was no one there but the gates had opened, leaving Harry to believe that someone had allowed him entrance.

            Peacocks were strutting around the lawns freely. What drew his attention was that there were only white peacocks. That was symbolism for _something_ , he just wasn’t sure what for.

            As he knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer, he made sure to straighten his appearance. He had yet to meet Lucius Malfoy and wasn’t sure he would be meeting him today either, but first impressions were supposed to be everything. Something he rather agreed with himself.

            When the door slowly creaked open, Harry’s first thought was that it had once again moved on its own but a surprised squeak had him looking down. He stared in surprise at the Magical Creature staring at him in awe. Harry knew enough from the books that this was a house elf and that they were tied to wizard families. Typically to the richer families. He didn’t quite know enough about them to form an opinion on the morality of having an elf bound to another person without any kind of pay or compensation. There had been brief things written in passing about house elves liking what they do. This would require more research before he knew how he stood on this.

            “Hello.” Harry supplied when the elf just stood there staring at him. “My name is Harry Potter.” He held out his hand, unsure how one was to go about talking to a house elf. After realizing he was out of his element, he was regretting not getting a book on them in depth. “And you are?”

            The elf blinked rapidly at his hand before covering a mouth with shaky fingers.

            “Dobby, sir.” The elf breathed fast. “Harry Potter is so kind and generous to ask about Dobby.”

            That threw Harry for a loop as he stood there wondering why common courtesy seemed to startle the elf this badly. Surely, asking simple questions about Dobby wasn’t abnormal.

            “Can I come in?” He asked when the elf just continued to stare at him. The awed looks were starting to creep him out.

            “Of course, Harry Potter sir.”

            “Harry will do just fine.” He told Dobby with a slight smile that was forced.

            As he stepped into the foyer, Harry was impressed with the décor. It was a little flashy in means of showing off but it was done tastefully.

            “Is Draco here?” Harry asked still looking around the room.

            “Who is asking?” The sharp tone had him looking up towards a staircase as a man with long blonde hair began descending. It was entirely obvious that this was Lucius Malfoy. Not just because of his looks but it was the way he carried himself.

            Harry’s eyes roamed as he took in the stiff shoulders and locked muscles. Lucius was clearly someone who had a lot of stress in his day-to-day life. The cold eyes were slightly detached, showing that the man didn’t care to play nice until _after_ he discovered who someone was. Which was a little off putting but it was an interesting insight to his personality. The superiority to his stance was more than the wealth that was gleaming from all angles to the residence. The Malfoy Lord was someone that had power as well. Not in the way that Narcissa did, this was something that went further. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was an ease to his superiority that let him know that it wasn’t for show. This man had a reason for believing he was superior to others but wasn’t vocal with it. Power radiated off him in waves, it was slightly surprising but not unwelcome.

            The closer the man came towards them, the more he realized how _cold_ the blonde was. Harry himself wasn’t one for emotions but this was something else. This wasn’t just an absence of emotions. This was an absence of all _positive_ emotions, leaving behind a wall of unapproachable coldness. The immaculate clothes were expected and no doubt expensive. It was less subtle than most and almost bordering on too much. This showed that money was a driving factor in Lucius Malfoy’s world, probably his motive in life. Sharp grey eyes that surprisingly didn’t resemble Draco’s, held intelligence to them. This was more than just book smarts, it was a knowledge of life and common sense too. Something that not a lot of people have. If one can’t apply the things in books to their real life then did it matter how smart they really were?

            Those keen eyes took in Harry’s clothes and appearance. The curl of a lip was the only thing that showed his displeasure, which was intriguing to Harry. The man was similar to Narcissa and Draco in matters of hiding what he was thinking. There was an aura surrounding the man, the one that previously resembled power but Harry realized that it was more than just that. It was his magic. Lucius was oozing out magic, whether to show his power or it was something done subconsciously, he wasn’t sure. The magic was unlike anything he has yet to come across. Instinctively, he knew this was Dark Magic, there was no hiding the nearly tangible tang that just felt dark. But what interested him was the lack of Light Magic he could feel. Was this someone who had chosen only one side and didn’t bother to care about the other? What was with wizards and their odd beliefs? Only choosing one was just silly to him.

            As Lucius reached the bottom step, Harry tried to determine more of his personality but it was hard. _Very_ hard. At first glance, the man’s stance was screaming leader. But something was telling him that this wasn’t quite the case. Conviction goes a long way inside a follower, it separates those who blindly follow and the ones that do so because they truly believe in what they are doing. _If_ Lucius was a follower than it was one with a lot of conviction. Which was admirable in its own rights. He would have to wait until more evidence was given to fully decide what kind of person the man was.

            Harry held out his hand as he waited for the man to do the same. “Harry Potter, sir.”

            A pale brow flicked up, the only signal that Lucius had been surprised. A strong grip and answering hand shake had been the man’s response.

            “Lucius Malfoy.”

            Harry acknowledged this with a nod of his head as he slowly dropped his hand, not in a rushed way but one that showed that he held respect for the handshake and that it hadn’t been a formality.

            “My wife and son speak very highly of you.”

            There was a sharpness to his tone that told Harry the man didn’t care what they thought, he was showing him that he would make his own judgment.

            “I find myself fond of Narcissa and Draco.” Harry admitted. “I don’t like people often but they are rather intriguing.”

            Lucius regarded him with contemplative eyes as he gestured them towards a study.

            Once inside, Harry noticed that wealth was still gleaming at him but not in an obvious manner. The extensive books and polished chairs showed that this was a room that was also for show. This was somewhere guests were taken but not someplace to make them at ease.

            “Intriguing how?”

            The question caused Harry to look back to the Malfoy Lord. “Narcissa holds power in everything she does. Including a simple gaze or a nod of acknowledgment. She sees things that others don’t but never voices them. Something that interests me.”

            Harry could tell that he had surprised the man because grey eyes widened slightly. Which was something he was rather proud of.

            “Draco is intelligent. I confess to not knowing as much about the Wizarding world as I would like but even I can tell that he is smarter than others of his age. It’s a silent intelligence, where he knows that he is smarter than most but doesn’t voice it. I imagine that is his upbringing and manners at work. It’s a nice blend of superiority and humble combined. Something that not a lot people have.”

            There was an almost telling silence that followed his statement. Harry knew that Lucius was formulating an opinion of him and that this silence was necessary. He met the man’s piercing stare head on and didn’t flinch at the almost probing gaze. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he kept his own magic steeled inside of him, in a shield of sorts.

            “You are quite different than I assumed you would be.”

            The admission was surprising. Lucius didn’t seem like someone to admit when he made a mistake but that was exactly what he was doing.

            “Being biased is something that comes naturally, usually without any forethought.” Harry began with a slight shrug. “It’s hard to know how someone will act or even behave, but prepositioned beliefs are always under the surface. Based on your magic alone and not even considering your political beliefs, you would be someone that wouldn’t have gotten along with my parents. Me being who I am, you had concocted an opinion of me without ever meeting me. It may have been subconsciously but it was still there. So, it doesn’t surprise me that I am different than you originally assumed.”

            Lucius arched both brows in slight amusement. “What of me? Am I what you expected?”

            “Yes.”

            The fast answer must not have been what the man was expecting. “A little contradictory, wouldn’t you say?”

            Harry cocked his head at the question. “No, not really.” He pressed. “My assumptions of you _were_ formulated without ever meeting you _but_ I did have other things to go off of. My opinion of you is not determined off of whether you are a dark wizard or not, nor was it revolved around your political beliefs. I took in the statements of your son and wife, your home, your magic itself and the way you hold yourself. So, perhaps my opinion was presumptuous but I wasn’t wrong. You are exactly as I imagined.” He paused as he considered his own words. “Which I believe is a good thing.”

            “You are rather intriguing.” Lucius mused as he eyed Harry in interest. “You remind me a lot of someone I once knew.”

            Harry hummed in thought as he considered this a compliment. He didn’t have to know who the man was comparing him to but the warmth in his voice was telling enough.

            “You asked about my son.” The man continued when Harry hadn’t said anything.

            A small smile graced Harry’s lips without thought and he caught sight of Lucius’ arched brow. It made him feel as if he was missing something but chose to ignore this for now.

            “He extended the invitation to visit. I was hoping he was home.”

            Another calculating look before the man called for Dobby. “Tell Draco he his attendance is required for the moment.”

            Dobby nodded once before a small crack sounded and the elf vanished.

            Harry bit his lip as he looked to his hands, debating about how to voice his thoughts. “Mister Malfoy.”

            The way the man’s spine straightened minutely, they both knew that what he was about to say was important.

            “I was never provided the opportunity to educate myself properly of the wizarding world. This is a byproduct of someone else’s meddling and circumstances that were out of my control.” He had to take a breath to contain the injustice that had been swimming inside him.

            “The resources being provided to me are horribly lacking. I find the books I am to learn from, are one-sided and incomplete in regard to competency. If I am to ever gain a complete picture regarding magic, I need to learn both sides. I _need_ to learn Dark Magic and Light Magic. I don’t know many wizards at all. You are a dark family, that much is obvious. I am not asking you to teach me Dark Magic, I am asking you for the means to teach myself. A step in the right direction is all that I ask of you.”

            Asking for help was something that Harry was loath to do. It gave the other the means to request for something in return. It was a position that could lead to weakness if done often. But he was getting desperate.

            Lucius narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward. “You have given this thought.”

           It was a statement, not a question. It was also rhetorical but Harry felt the need to nod his agreement anyways.

            “I am at a disadvantage.” Lucius admitted in distaste. “You seem to have been able to do some research on me, while I am woefully ignorant of your own life.”

            Harry had to hold back a smirk at that. He could imagine how much an admittance like that had cost the man. This was not someone who liked to be kept in the dark about things.

            “You mentioned my political beliefs in words but never the actual definition of them.” Harry winced slightly, he had been hoping that Lucius wouldn’t want to talk about politics. That didn’t interest him in the slightest.

            Lucius lifted his chin in thought. “I have to wonder if you truly know the depths of my beliefs.” Harry arched his brows as he considered the statement.

            “You know that I am a Dark Wizard and show no outward disapproval at the knowledge. You mentioned that I would not have gotten along with your parents and you are quite right. Which makes me wonder if you _know_ how right you had been.”

            Harry leaned back as he nodded in understanding. He finally understood where this was going. The man wasn’t trying to bring up his beliefs in a means to sway him, he was bringing them up to see if Harry knew the full weight of the situation.

            “Being kept ignorant of this world for so long, I wanted to know as much as I could.” Harry told him with narrowed eyes. “I have read numerous books and even reports. I know of where your beliefs have led you just as I know how they got you in trouble.” He didn’t want to actively bring up the allegations when the man had been brought in front of the Wizengamot but hinting at it would be sufficient enough.

            “I know which side my parents were on in the war, just as I know which side you were on.” He sighed heavily as he tried to figure out how to say what he was thinking.

            “I don’t know what the situation was like during the war. I don’t know what kind of people my parents were or even who you used to be. Forming an opinion on a war that I wasn’t there for, nor understand the depth of politics and meanings behind, would be presumptuous of me. Not to mention arrogant. Having a strong opinion on something that I can’t fully grasp, doesn’t make sense to me. It would be ignorant of me to let my emotions rule that thought process.”

            Harry paused as he furrowed his brows. “I know what the papers assumed of you.” He gestured towards the man’s arms, not knowing which one held the mark of Voldemort. “Just as I know that you followed Voldemort.” The man’s eyes narrowed dangerously, causing Harry to smile slightly.

            “What you have to understand about me, Mister Malfoy, is that I look at the world in calculating manners. I won’t judge your life choices because I wasn’t apart of them. I don’t know what led you to be who you are and I don’t particularly care to either.” He bit his lip when he realized that sounded a little rude.

            “I am sure you had compelling reasons to join Voldemort just as I am sure my parents had their own reasons for fighting against this. Can I say that Voldemort was wrong?” He tilted his head back and forth as he considered his own question.

            “That’s a hard question. I do believe the man went about his beliefs the wrong way but he did raise valid points. Just as I think the opposite side had their own valid outlook as well. Changing the world is a hard topic to sell. Voldemort’s ambitions were high but his plans fell flat in achieving them. I am going to be completely honest with you.” Harry warned as he too leaned forward.

            “I could care less what you believe politically. I don’t care that you used to support Voldemort or even if you still do. I don’t care that you were a part of the same organization that took my parents’ lives. Why? Because none of that has anything to do with _me_.”

            The surprise that flickered across Lucius’ face had Harry sighing.

            “Yes, they were my parents but they aren’t here nor are they ever coming back. _They_ fought in a war. _They_ risked their lives. _They_ knew what they were getting themselves into. _They_ are dead. Not me. I have my whole life to choose who I am and what I want to be. It will be my own beliefs that pave my path. I am not going to vilify the things that led to your own path. I am not going to dislike you for something that I wasn’t there for. It doesn’t bother me who you choose to follow because I don’t care about things like that. If you want to start your own war, have at it just don’t involve me. What you have or haven’t done, has nothing to do with me. Nor do I care about your past.”

            There was an almost stunned silence that followed his mini speech.

            A small low whistle was heard from behind him and they both turned to see Narcissa and Draco standing in the doorway regarding the both of them in surprise.

            “Draco, show Harry the library.”

            Draco locked eyes on his father, probably having some kind of silent conversation.

            “Yes, sir.”

            Harry stood up and nodded respectfully. “Thank you.” He offered with a small smile.

            Lucius acknowledged this with a wave of his hand.

            As Harry walked through the doorway, he stopped to smile at Narcissa. “Good to see you again.”

            A fond smile quirked at the corners of her lips. “As always, Harry.” She placed a hand on his shoulder briefly before entering the room fully.

            The door shut behind them as Draco and Harry entered the hallway. Draco shook his head when it looked like Harry was going to talk. Their shoulders brushed all the way to the library. Something that was interesting to Harry but not unwelcome.

            Once they were inside the library, did Draco turn to him. Harry tilted his head as he tried to gauge what the other boy was feeling. Was he upset? Silver eyes were shining and searching Harry’s face, almost as if he was memorizing his features.

            “Father likes you.”

            Harry arched his brows as he gestured for the blonde to explain.

            Draco shook his head in disbelief. “I have never seen him like that before. He isn’t shy about voicing his displeasure. He wouldn’t have taken you into the study if you hadn’t impressed him somewhat. But for him to talk to you as he did, shows a respect.”

            “How so?” Harry was curious to see the finer points of Lucius through the eyes of Draco.

            “He wasn’t rude, for one.” Draco snorted slightly. “His attitude is always like that but he would have said something to you if he didn’t like you.”

            It didn’t surprise Harry that Lucius was like that even to his family. The man was just too cold to have any amount of warmth inside him.

            “Not only that, he brought up his status as a Death Eater.” Draco lifted his hand and shook it slightly, as if to say, ‘kind of’.

           “Indirectly.” Harry agreed.

            “He _never_ talks about that. _Ever_.” Draco whispered out a little breathlessly.

            Harry smiled at his antics. “Calm yourself.” His smile grew when the blonde smacked his arm playfully.

            “Plus, he agreed for you to learn from the library.” Grey met green as their eyes locked.

            “I won’t ask you if you are sure about this.” Draco whispered as he took a step forward. “I know you have thought about it in ways I probably never considered.”

            He cocked his head to the side as his friend took another step towards him.

            “This is big.” Harry decided not to respond to that. It was obvious how big of a decision this was. It was an entirely new path in life.

            “This is something that can’t make it to the public.” Draco paused as he wrinkled his nose. “At the moment, you are their hero. It would raise mass hysteria if it was found that you were learning Dark Magic.”

            That was true. Harry had already considered this. It was something that he knew going into his decision. The wizarding world was so odd to him. What was the point of vilifying certain people just because of the magic they were learning?

            Harry furrowed his brows when it seemed as if Draco was… happy. “What’s with you?”

            Draco shrugged his shoulders before looking down at his immaculate cuticles. “It’s just nice to not have to hide any of this from you.”

            An explanation wasn’t required. Harry understood what Draco meant. If he had decided to not explore the Dark Arts, their friendship might have become strained later on down the road.

            “Looks like I am stuck with you then.”

            Draco’s head snapped up before he smirked lightly as his eyes narrowed. “I think it is the other way around.” A haughty tone and nose in the air emphasized his statement. “I will have to be the one to teach you the ways of being someone important.”

            Harry shook his head as his lips twitched. “That would imply you are important. I’m the famous one.”

            “Oi!” Draco cried indignantly. “Watch it, Potter.” His eyes were shining and his lips teasing. “Don’t let that fame get to your already inflated ego.”

            That had Harry rolling his eyes as he nudged his friend. “Why are you naming your faults and not mine?”

            “Why am I friends with you?” Draco asked as if he really wanted to know. “If I wanted to be insulted, I would spend time with my godfather.”

            Harry let out a chuckle as he walked to the nearest shelf and started looking at all of the many books to choose from.

            “We both know that if I couldn’t match your insults, you would find me horribly boring.” When there was no rebuttal, Harry grinned.

            “Wait a minute.” Draco’s voice had him turning around. “Do the muggles know where you are?”

            Harry shook his head. “I left them.” He smirked at the rapid blinks that Draco released. “I am staying at the Leaky Cauldron until school starts.”

            There was an odd calculating silence that followed his statement. “That won’t do.” Draco mumbled more to himself than to Harry. “Hold that thought.”

            “Mother!” The blonde yelled as he walked quickly out of the room, nearly resembling a jog.

            “Why are you shouting?” Harry could hear Narcissa ask in disapproval, somewhere in the distance. “That is unbecoming. We are not Gryffindors, yelling is beneath us.”

            “Harry is no longer with the muggles. He is staying at the Leaky Cauldron.”

            “Oh, that just won’t do. How horribly plebian.” Narcissa retorted, causing Harry to sigh before looking to the ceiling.

            “Harry, dear.” Narcissa called, “I can have a guest room set up in minutes.”

            This was another decision in life, it wouldn’t shape him but it would change things. Did he want to stay here? It would help in the long run and make learning easier. It wasn’t as if it was a hardship to spend time with the Malfoy family. He wasn’t too sure about Lucius but Narcissa and Draco were fine.

            Draco walked back into the room, only this time dragging his mother as well. There was a pleading in silver eyes, something that was tugging at Harry’s resolve. Damnit. What was with Draco’s abilities to worm his way under his skin?

            “Come on, Harry.” Draco told him with a barely concealed whine. “I’ll help you with some of the theories that don’t make sense.” He gestured to all of the books in the library.

            The offer was tempting but it was the way pale eyelashes fluttered at him that was the final push over the edge.

            “Alright.” He whispered to Draco, ignoring the victorious gleam in those eyes.

            Harry looked to Narcissa and ignored her amused expression. “Thank you, I would really appreciate it.”

 

* * *

 

            As Harry spent the rest of the day reading with Draco and listening to the blonde talk about _everything_ and nothing at the same time, he realized that living here wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps, decisions can be easy after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that the next chapter will include going to Hogwarts. At the very least the train ride. 
> 
> I could have glossed over things here but this is actually really important. I needed to show the ways that Harry isn't happy with the way magic is taught and I needed to show this bit with Lucius. A lot of things will center around this. Harry going this route is a life changing decision. It might not seem like one on the surface but it changes everything. 
> 
> I also wanted to say that the Japanese school I mentioned is a thing. I found it on Pottermore. Some of you might have already known that. I, however, did not. *Shrugs*
> 
> If you have any questions or just want to tell me your thoughts of this chapter, let me know! I will see you soon!
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	4. Duality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a slight warning to this chapter. I know that my Harry is far more intelligent than most believe an eleven year old is. I get it. But that is what appeals me with this story. It is intriguing to me. With that being said, Draco is also insightful. There is a point in this chapter where he says some things that will (hopefully) resonate with some of you. Yes, I realize that this is rather big for an eleven year old and I will have more on that at the end notes but it is vital to the story. 
> 
> So... let's just all agree that I am a piece of poop. I know, I know I waited way to freaking long for this. I explained my reasons in another one of my stories, the 'I Do What I Must'. If you are wanting an explanation for my tardiness, it is in there. If you could care less, then ignore my babbling. :P Just know that I don't usually take this long to update stories and I am so sorry. I will strive to do better. But I am coming at you with an 11k word chapter! That's got to make up for it slightly! At least a little?

            Duality is an interesting concept. Doing things with only one mindset or one direction isn’t always the smartest. Sure, things change from each situation but typically nothing is straight forward. There are always deeper meanings that sometimes don’t always make decisions easier. If only the world worked in the simple mindset of right or wrong.

            But life was something that Harry realized early on went past simple boundaries. The world around him was far more complicated than originally planned out. The context behind a decision is almost more important than the final choice itself. The last war was a perfect example. Winning the war was the final objective or decision that both sides were fighting for. Only, the context of what it would take to win was more important than winning the war.

            Does it matter if you win, if you sacrifice your own people in the process? War is bloody, violent and destructive. The underlying variables of war show duality in startling ways. Both sides believe they are fighting for what is ‘right’ but in the process of their beliefs they have forsaken the meaning that was originally intended. How long can one fight with violence to obtain peace? How long before they are no longer the righteous and now perform the same methods of the opposition? When do the lines blur from right to wrong? One can’t be classified as one side when they enforce the tactics of their enemy. It is duality all over again.

            Even in regular day-to-day life there is duality. People who give off certain auras but can be different from the images they project. The Malfoys were perfect examples of this. The arrogant and rigidly controlled emotions that the rest of the world sees doesn’t actually define them or show who they really are.

           There is always more than what meets the eye when it comes to everything in life. What appears to be an absolute could actually be the opposite. When one assumes, that can be the catalyst in open thought. If you see what is only on the surface then you will always be blind.

             Harry was one to try and see all sides of something before coming to complete conclusions. Seeing the duality to people was something he enjoyed but also disliked. If people weren’t so complicated, then it would be easier to understand the different aspects of humanity. But at the same time, if people were as straight forward as some believe, then it would be a terribly boring existence for him. It was almost a puzzle when trying to figure people out. Or even a personal challenge.

            Living with the Malfoys was such a stark difference than what he is used to, that sometimes Harry had to remind himself that this was now his reality. As much as things were different, a lot was similar.

            Lucius was strict in regard to control and order. Which reminded him of his Aunt and Uncle. Things had to be done a certain way or the man would become angry. Not that the blonde would ever show it but the rigid stance and cold eyes was proof enough.

            Narcissa was far warmer than her husband but she too liked order when dealing with day-to-day life. Which coincides with Harry’s own qualities. There was clean and then there was obsessive. Lucius tended to be on the border of obsessive but done so with an elegance that his Aunt could only dream of, while Narcissa was just firm in her opinions.

            One of the best parts about the Manor was Draco. It was so unusual for someone to not only mesh well with him but also made it so easy to be around. Harry wasn’t blind, he knew that he didn’t have the warmest of personalities. Nor was he fully adept at social situations. People just weren’t his thing. Observing from afar doesn’t give one the best opportunities to interact with others. He tended to rub people the wrong way and that was something that he was alright with. It wasn’t as if anyone had ever _wanted_ to spend time with him. At least until Draco came around.

            There was this free openness to Draco that was refreshing but horribly endearing. Which annoyed Harry to no end. _Why_ was the blonde so easily likable? Perhaps it was the duality to the other boy that intrigued him so much. Because Draco had many depths to him that not most would be able to see at first glance.

            Draco _could_ be cold, calculated and cruel if he wanted to. It was fascinating to see him cut down people like his father or mother would do. There were subtle differences between each member of the Malfoy family when they were on the offense but Draco’s was still always his favorite to watch. Perhaps that was because most people don’t expect such a young boy to have such a keen insight.

           He himself was moderately wise but he wasn’t one for confrontations. Not because he couldn’t do it but more because there was a strategy to not speaking up. Watching from the sidelines can gleam so much more insight than others realize. Not that he believed the Malfoys were going about things the wrong way. Harry liked to consider it a different perspective. He was going to go about life his way and just enjoy watching others do it their way. Observation had always been a strong trait in his life and it was something that he knew would be a tactic for years to come.

            The duality to Draco could sometimes startle him. Which was something he was loath to admit. The boy was so intriguing that it bothered Harry how much time he spent trying to figure him out. Despite his mounting frustration at the realization that maybe the blonde just wasn’t someone he would ever be able to completely understand, he liked to watch him anyways. Which was honestly something he looked forward to. People tend to become so boring once there was nothing left to gleam from.

            The awareness of duality increases the longer people become aware that it exists. As Harry read the necessary books to start his education in the Dark Arts, he realized that keeping duality alive was important. Despite Dark Wizards being so different to Light Wizards, they were horribly similar.

            Harry had been completely disappointed in some of the teachings of Dark Wizards as well as Light Wizards. Inside the books he looked through at the Manor, it was still a propaganda mess. While the Light books had thrown in political opinions _against_ Dark teachings, the Dark books were throwing in political opinions _against_ Light teachings. Which showed how parallel the opposing sides really were. They may be on opposite sides and not agree on many things but they employed the exact same methods. It was infuriating and frustrating at the same time.

            He didn’t want to read a book that was geared to manipulate him into thinking only one way. He wanted to read something that was going to genuinely teach him. Harry supposed that the level of actual knowledge in the Dark books was better when compared to the ones he was supposed to be learning for Hogwarts. All he had to do was clench his fists and tune out the political nonsense. If only it was as easy with the assigned books that the school wanted to teach him. Those books were so useless that he wanted to burn them in the fire as a substitute for wood. What would it take to get an unbiased opinion?

            When he had asked Draco for any Light books that didn’t hold any political opinions in them whatsoever, he was handed an encyclopedia on Bowtruckles. That was the extent of Light Wizards. So far, Harry was beyond unimpressed with the Wizarding world.

            When asked for Dark books that held no political or biased opinions, he was shown a tiny section of the library. The number of books was small but infinitely better than the useless Bowtruckle book.

            “Your best bet is to find books published by Grey Wizards.” Draco told him quietly after listening to Harry unleash his frustrations. “There aren’t too many because publishing neutral opinions doesn’t gain any friends.”

            Harry arched a brow as he leaned forward and placed his chin in his hands. “By that logic, one can’t gain any enemies either.”

            Draco smirked as he nodded his head. “Which is the prime reason some choose to become a Grey Wizard.”

            That gave Harry a lot to think about. He could see the appeal of not choosing a side. He himself didn’t buy into any of the nonsense both sides seemed to spew. But choosing to be a Grey Wizard was still choosing a side, only now, it was a completely new side. The previous world of two set notions was now becoming a triangle. Choosing inaction wasn’t exactly the message Harry wanted to send. Was there another option out there? Was there a way to embody Light, Dark and Grey? Was there a new side he could either create or belong to?

            Despite whatever path Harry chose to go down later on, one thing was clear; duality would always be a defining quality to him. He would always be filled with many different viewpoints and never be classified as one thing.

 

* * *

 

            Stumbling across the darkest magic Harry had yet to experience had been a complete accident. Draco was off learning a lesson in heir ethics. Which sounded terribly boring but Harry hadn’t voiced his opinion. Thus, left him learning on his own.

            Time past relatively quickly as he read through several books teaching him to branch out his magic by increasing his awareness. It was to increase the production of his senses when feeling out foreign magic. Most stuff was trial and error since he wasn’t going to be using his wand for many things. But it was still a valuable lesson.

            During the practical exorcise of trying to increase his senses, he felt a stirring of _something_. The Malfoys in general felt Dark but this wasn’t that. This was _exceptionally_ darker. The two weren’t even comparable. Which led Harry to believe that this wasn’t normal. That whatever he was feeling was dangerous. More so than anything else he had _ever_ felt.

            Harry lifted his head to peer around the library, trying to find whatever it was that he was feeling. It was bothering him that this was the first time since being at the Manor that he had felt it. Was it only because he had learned to increase his awareness that it was being felt? Or was something else happening here?

            He scanned his book, trying to see if there were other ways to increase his senses because discovering what was the source of the magic was proving to be difficult.

            _'I can smell your distress, do cease it at once. I am trying to sleep.'_ Zila hissed from the spot he made himself comfortable on the table.

            Harry rolled his eyes as he ignored his snake.  ** _'Do you feel that power?'_**

            _'No, you are paranoid. Now go away.'_ Harry huffed silently as he looked through his book one more time.

             When nothing jumped out at him on the pages, Harry stood up and began going through the shelves, searching. The more focus that was put into his magic, he began to notice that whatever he was feeling was _familiar_. But why? What could possibly be in the Manor that would be recognizable? He had never come across magic at the Dursleys before, it was only ever his own magic there.

            The thought had him pausing. Was this magic somehow his? Was that why he couldn’t find it? Because there was nothing to find and it was just his own magic being discovered for the first time with his senses? But that didn’t make sense.         

            Just as Harry was about to decide whether to give up or not, another brush of the Dark magic was oozing around the room, as if reaching out. Which caused Harry to realize that this wasn’t him. Whatever was happening wasn’t something he was responsible for.

            Rows and rows of books was turning up a fruitless search. Harry had to block any budding frustration that was bubbling at the surface, he couldn’t afford to get upset. That would only cloud his judgment.

            Harry tilted his head when he came to the end of one of the rows and noticed that an entire shelf had been dedicated to an old book. That alone would have stopped him. It wasn’t as if the library had a lot of space to spare. Almost all of the shelves in the Malfoy’s library was full. So, why would this one only house one book? Especially considering the aesthetics of the book. It wasn’t that it was old that was the problem, a lot of the books in the library were old too. No, what had him raising a lone brow was the weathered look to it. This wasn’t a book that one just read. This was something that had been used and reused a lot. Which didn’t fit the rest of the books inside the library.

            He took a small step forward but paused when that brush of magic picked up, as if restless. This is what had attracted his attention. This is what had been surrounding the room. For some reason, there was Dark magic emitting from the old book.

            There was a fleeting thought of reaching out to touch the magic with his own but Harry resisted. He didn’t have a full grasp of what exactly the book was, so that seemed like a bad idea. It could be a fatal flaw or an irreversible mistake. Common sense was voicing a very strong opinion not to touch the magic or the book itself.

            The part of him that ached for knowledge didn’t want to just walk away but he couldn’t tune out logic. Harry took a breath before turning around and going the way he came. He wasn’t going to pretend this hadn’t happened. He couldn’t. It would eat at him otherwise.

            No, Harry was going to find out what it was inside the book that called out to him. First, he needed to do some research and then the book would be his.

           _'I told you that you were just paranoid.'_

Harry made a noncommittal noise before lifting a shoulder. **_'Perhaps.'_**

 

* * *

 

 

            “Make sure you owl us daily! And don’t get on the wrong side of Peeves!” A loving voice cried out. “Respect the ghosts and mind your teachers!”

            “What if I’m not in the right house?” Came the tearful reply as the child tried not to let their distress show.

            “Disgusting, isn’t it?” Draco’s voice had Harry looking away from the teary goodbyes of several strangers at the train station. “They all succumb so easily to emotions.”

            Harry smiled softly as he understood what Draco was really trying to say. It wasn’t necessarily the emotions the blonde didn’t agree with, it was the lack of decorum. Showing so much allowed everyone else to gleam insight that would be wisely kept private. If one believes that you are an emotional being, that is a flaw that can be used as a tactic by an enemy. It was a strategic maneuver to showing nothing.

            “Yes, well the unfortunate will always be that way.” Lucius interrupted before Harry could respond. Harry and Draco both rolled their eyes and looked away, otherwise they might laugh at the anticipated and typical response of the Malfoy patriarch.

            “You both know what is expected of you.” Narcissa chimed in with a small smile.

            The two boys nodded in agreement and understanding. She was telling them that she had confidence in their decisions and both would know how to behave accordingly. It was a compliment and a reminder at the same time.

            She cupped both of their faces briefly, allowing her actions and words to be the best goodbye that she could give them. “We will write to you both.”

            Draco smiled for a moment as he caught sight of Lucius’ nod of agreement. “We shall see you at Christmas holiday.”

            “Possibly sooner.” Lucius told his son with a meaningful look.

            Harry narrowed his eyes in thought as he took in the silent discussion that seemed to be happening between father and son. Something was being said, he only wished he knew what it was. By the relaxed posture of Draco’s shoulders, it wasn’t anything bad. He looked to Lucius but there wasn’t much insight, the man was just as rigid as always.

            With the goodbyes out of the way, the two boys made their way to the train. Harry looked to Draco with an arched brow, silently asking him to explain. He watched the blonde look behind him, making sure that his mother and father had left.

            “Father is on the School Board of Governors and sometimes makes trips to the school. He was telling me that if I need him at some point, he will come.”

            It was startlingly nice of the man. Harry wasn’t sure what to make of the elder Malfoy. Most parents would’ve said they would always be there for their child but not him. No, the Malfoy Lord went about it in different manners and chose to allow his actions to speak instead of words. It was duality all over again. Which just intrigued Harry to no end.

            As they pulled their trunks into the racks, a voice intervened.

            “Do you need help?”

            They both turned to see two older students. The boys were obviously twins but what interested Harry was the palpable tension in the room when they caught sight of Draco. A glance to his friend showed that Draco was also not pleased with the turn of events.

            Harry knew enough about the blonde to note the lack of dislike, distaste and disgust written clearly in a simple sneer. This was a look that he hadn’t quite seen on Draco before. It was just a new side to his friend and he was fascinated to discover more.

            “No thank you.” Harry replied politely, deciding to wait until he knew more about the two newcomers before making his own conclusion. He watched the way they shared a look before gazing to him.

            By the way they held themselves, Harry noticed that the two weren’t just looking at him, they were taking in the surroundings of the room. As if mapping out vantage points and the items in the small area. Which was surprising. This let him know that these two either did shady business ventures… or they themselves tend to do things that would require quick access to exits. Their posture was rigid but their eyes weren’t worried. It was either their age thinking they were safe or because they knew they could take on two first years.

            Miscalculating a potential opponent is a mistake. It wasn’t wise to ever assume you had the upper hand. He wasn't too sure about their magical capabilities but if a fight ever did happen, he knew that Draco and him would put up a strong go of things.

            He hummed in thought as he looked to their clothes, noting that it was several years old. If Harry had to guess, he would say that it was passed down from other members in the family or it was bought used. The cloaks were clean but torn in places. Ripped where they shouldn’t but taken care of decently well. First glance showed him that they didn’t come from wealth. Poverty would be a better descriptor. Which had him wondering if the different social standing is what was causing the tension. Draco didn’t tend to dislike one solely on the purpose of a lack of money. So, something else was going on here.

            There wasn’t an aura of authority nor was there anything intimidating about the two redheads. Which led Harry to believe that the two weren’t into Dark Magic. A simple prod of his own had him realizing that his assumptions had been proved correct. They were Light Wizards. That could also explain the tension but something was telling him that it was deeper than that.

            Asking strangers if they needed help wasn’t something that a lot of people do. Most would try and see who they were _before_ offering assistance. That intrigued Harry. He liked when people did things differently. These two were definitely memorable.

            Harry waited for them to speak, so that he could gleam more from them. He wanted to know more before he made his decision on the type of people they were. On instinct, he wanted to say they were followers but there was so much that he didn’t know just yet.

            When Draco opened his mouth to say something, Harry reached over and entwined their arms, letting his friend know that he knew what he was doing. It wasn’t that he really cared if the blonde spoke up and insulted people, he would just like a chance to see who they were first.

            Harry could tell by their widened eyes that they were surprised by his actions. As if quieting Draco was an accomplishment.

            “I am Fred Weasley and this is my brother George.” Both boys held out their hands, expecting Harry to hold out his own.

            The statement had Harry quirking up one side of his lips. “No you aren’t.” He denied with a shake of his head. The way they had traded looks and the shifting of George’s eyes had let him know that the boy was lying. It was obvious that this was something they did often. But for what purpose?

            Harry ignored their startled looks and peered closely. Now that he knew which one was which, it was easy to see the subtle differences between them. He noted that Fred’s brows were thicker but George had fewer freckles on his nose. Identifying factors that would make it impossible to fool him going forward.

            He reached out his free hand to shake the retreating hand. “You are George.” Harry dropped the boy’s hand to shake his brothers. “And you are Fred.”

            Another shared look between the twins before he was being sent a calculating look. He arched his brows in amusement when the redheads looked to Draco in suspicion.

            Draco scoffed harshly. “Don’t look at me. As if I would ever bother caring which one you is which. Idiot and twin idiot are good enough names for me.”

            At their offended looks, Harry coughed to get their attention as he shot Draco an amused look. He caught sight of twinkling silver eyes and knew that the boy was just having fun.

            “I wasn’t told ahead of time.” Harry thought it odd that they were so suspicious. Was this level of distrust something that Dark Wizards face often? “You gave it away yourselves. It was all over your faces.”

            The identical suspicion didn’t leave, it actually increased. Harry huffed out as he folded his hands across his chest, not impressed. “Why would I lie? I don’t know either of you enough to care.”

            When they shared another look, Harry pointed at Fred. “You were trying to ask your brother if he believed me.” He pointed to George. “You were just confused.”

            There was a stifling silence that surrounded him after that. Even Draco was looking at him with open curiosity.

            “I told you that it was written on your faces. Emotions are telling and neither of you tried to hide them at all. Perhaps this will be a lesson for you.” The last bit was said in a way that he hoped they would listen but the two were still suspicious to really pick up on it.

            “And you are?” Fred asked with narrowed eyes, clearly not amused.

            “Harry Potter.”

            If the last silence was stifling, this one was nearly deafening. It was obvious that neither one of them had been anticipating that. The typical gaze upward towards his hair had him sighing internally. What was with everyone’s fascination of his scar? As if that was what defined him? As if that was his only depicting qualities.

           “Really?” They both said in unison before looking back and forth between Harry and Draco. As if doubting their friendship. It wasn’t until another suspicious look towards Draco from the twins had him realizing that it was actually Draco they were doubting. As if the blonde had somehow duped him. Which was insulting not only to Draco but himself as well. He wasn’t someone who could be easily duped.

            Harry narrowed his eyes at the silent implication. “Draco is my best friend.” The pleased but shy smile Draco released was the only thing keeping Harry from speaking negatively to them. It was odd classifying their friendship because Draco was honestly his first and only friend. Sometimes social settings didn’t make sense to him. Was a title even necessary? But he had learned from observing people that classifications go a long way. Draco _was_ his friend and no one was going to belittle that.

            Hands were raised in surrender as the two redheads took a step back. “Didn’t mean to offend.” Fred offered with furrowed brows and a slight frown. “It’s just surprising is all.”

            The explanation held no merit and had Harry arching a brow. “Why? Because Draco is a Malfoy? Or because you are raised to think that all Dark Wizards are bad?”

            A startled gasp emitted from the two of them. It had Harry reconsidering his words, trying to understand what could have made them react like that. Was it just indignation? Or perhaps something else?

            “He isn’t insinuating that he is a Dark Wizard.” Draco drawled with palpable boredom. “He is commenting on your lack of knowledge to things you don’t understand.”

            Harry rolled his eyes at the way their own narrowed. “Draco is a Dark Wizard and I am… something.” He could tell that his answer wasn’t something that they had wanted to hear but it was the best he could offer. The wizarding world valued labels far too much and nothing so far defined him. He wasn’t going to fit into their preconceived notions. That just wasn’t who he was.

            “We have a good understanding of what a Dark Wizard is and isn’t.” George spoke up, ignoring Harry’s declaration.

            “Do you?” Draco asked with slight curiosity but mainly in a condescending manner. “Do you truly know what it takes? I don’t mean power or even morals. I am talking about the mentality, the drive behind the spells and your actions itself. When dealing with the Dark Arts, knowledge and understanding is required for each and every spelll. There needs to be a tangible connection to what you think you are doing and the spells you want to bring forth.”

            Harry was mildly impressed with the way the blonde had captivated the redheads. The two boys were giving Draco their full undivided attention.

            “Light magic tends to be forgiving. One can simply try again if the spell doesn’t work properly but a simple mistake in Dark magic can have devastating consequences.” There was a pause as Draco narrowed his eyes.

            “And not because it is evil or wrong.” It was obvious that both older boys had been thinking just that. “They hold consequences because when one is aligned and in tune with their magic, such as is required to even attempt Dark Arts, the thin line between body and mind blurs. If something were to go wrong, it could have unknown effects on the body or one’s magic.”

            “Then why bother in the first place, if it is so dangerous?”

            Draco sighed heavily. “Being a Dark Wizard is a lot more than a simple title. It is a way of life. I’m not talking about political aspects either. Committing to the magic itself is one of the first lessons taught in the Dark Arts. A lot people take magic for granted. They assume that because they have it, that it will be a constant. But that is so far from the truth.”

            Harry leaned against the rack and reluctantly found himself enthralled with Draco’s words. He had heard most of this from Lucius and even the books in the library but never from the boy himself and definitely not with so much passion.

            “How can you use something so heavily in your da- to-day life without ever communicating properly? Not with words but a deeper understanding. Most Light Wizards live their life without ever considering just where it is that their magic comes from. Can you tell me why yours is different from mine? What makes us have magic but muggles don’t? What exactly causes a squib in a long line of wizards?”

            It was amusing to Harry to see the way curiosity sparkled in blue eyes and how the boys subconsciously leaned closer.

            “Magic isn’t a tool to be used for one’s benefit. One has to realize the true gift that magic really is. When you realize that you are the tool and not the other way around, it becomes easier to call forth magic. Because the self-entitled belief that it is _your_ magic, will never give you proper results. Magic is to be respected first and then your wants come second. The difference between Light and Dark magic is knowledge.”

            There was a slightly offended look from the twins but Draco just waved that away with an impatient hand.

            “What happens if you attempt to fill a glass of water from a lake, expecting the whole lake to be inside the cup?” Draco shook his head. “Without a deeper understanding of the magic that would represent the lake in the example, Light Wizards assume that they are drawing on their full potential. They believe that they are taking the whole lake when in all actuality, they are never seeing what is right before them. They walk away with the one glass and a simple-minded belief that they are in control of such unbridled depths of magic.”

            Draco looked between the two boys for a moment, as if trying to see if they were understanding what he was aiming to say.

            “The difference between Light and Dark Wizards is the knowledge in what they are doing. While you walk away from that lake with your one glass, I walk away with the understanding that I don’t have to leave to accomplish my goals. I don’t have to take any water away when I can just immerse myself inside the lake. I go to the magic and not the other way around.”

            Harry watched the way Fred shared an uneasy look with his brother, it showed that he was uncomfortable in the face of the truth.

            “When I said that being a Dark Wizard was a way of life, I meant that. It is also believing in magic itself. The reasons we are seen as bad is because of the power that comes with being aware of the magic within. Because no matter how hard you try, you can’t fight one glass of water with the entire lake. If I am aware of my own inner magic on levels that you never considered, how can you compete? How can you fight against something that you can’t understand? It is once again the knowledge that separates us. It is the act of performing the same spells in a classroom but one person being given the material ahead of time.”

            Draco sighed heavily before he bit his lip. “I am not trying to make it appear as if Light Wizards are wrong and their beliefs aren’t noteworthy. I am just showing you that we are different but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Choosing to understand magic on a different wavelength does not make my ways wrong and yours right. It just makes us different and isn’t that what life is about?”

            The more Draco spoke, the more Harry was utterly captivated. It was hard to listen to him debate something with so much emotion and not get swept underneath it all. He _had_ seen the blonde get this passionate about a simple potion that was being brewed or his favorite food. There was just this unending animation to the other boy that Harry found so endearing.

            “I won’t lie to you and say that there haven’t been Dark Wizards that have forgone their teachings and have done unspeakable things. Because there are. But do not think for one moment that there aren’t Light Wizards that are above this. There are bad people in the world and they aren’t defined by two classifications. Don’t punish the majority for what the minority do. Deciding whether I am an evil person should _not_ be based off the type of magic I perform. It is what I _do_ with the magic that should be my judgment. Let my actions speak for me and not the title that you think I am.”

            There was another uneasy silence that filled the small area as both redheads stared intently at Draco.

            “I don’t dislike you because you are Light Wizards.” Draco continued softly. “I dislike you because you buy into something without ever discovering the facts for yourself. You judge me on something that you know nothing about. That’s an ignorance that I can’t easily overlook. I suppose it could be a byproduct of your raising but it doesn’t sit well with me.” He held up a hand when George opened his mouth to argue.

            “My father dislikes your father because of his actions. The stigma of being a Dark Wizard is hard to live with. It doesn’t help when the Ministry releases legislations that make it that much harder to be who we are. Your father has not only been signatures on laws aimed to hinder Dark Magic but also passed his own in his field of work. When someone is in a position of power who claims to be on the side providing justice but only helps those who fit a certain criteria, how is that justice? How is that helping anyone when we are being condemned daily? One cannot claim to be for the public if they ignore an entire delegation of wizards. Society is not made up of only one type of people. So, why am I looked down upon? Why am I vilified for the things I believe in? Shouldn’t I have the free will to choose? Shouldn’t I be entitled to that?”

            Harry narrowed his eyes in thought. So, their father worked for the Ministry? That alone had him wondering more about them and their father. He didn’t like the Ministry on principle for the beliefs they pushed onto the youth. Books were something that the government had control over. It wasn’t a coincidence that the majority of books given to the public were only Light. There was more to it and he knew it rested in the hands of the Ministry.

            “My father is not kind nor would he be willing to see past your father to look at you. Light Wizards aren’t the only ones who are judgmental and blind to some things. He wouldn’t dislike you on the basis of being a Light Wizard but he also wouldn’t be able to respect you because of that.” There was a pause as Draco looked to his feet for a moment.

            “I am not my father.” He glared up at them with determination. “Choosing to hate those who want to oppress us will leave me bitter and jaded. My time will be better spent on myself and my own magic. The world isn’t going to change overnight, so I have change it myself. I need to become the person that I want the world to see. If I want Dark Wizards to be looked at with the respect that we deserve, then I need to be someone worth respecting. I need to be the embodiment of what a true Dark Wizard is.”

            A small smile quirked up at the corners of Draco’s lips, which had Harry lifting a brow. “And I will. I am going to shatter preconceived notions in the process of changing the world.”           

            Harry smiled softly as he noticed that Draco’s cheeks were tinted pink. It was obvious that his friend felt as if too much was said. “If you can’t tell, Draco wants to become an activist.” He laughed when Draco shoved his shoulder playfully.

            The twins looked between them curiously. Harry wasn’t sure if it was their friendship that was being calculated or if they were thinking over Draco’s words.

            “Why is it that this isn’t all public knowledge?” Both brothers spoke as one.

            Draco rolled his eyes. “It _is_ public knowledge. One just has to go looking.” The tone of his voice suggested that they were being particularly thick.

           “The problem isn’t just today’s society and their mentalities. The stigma against Dark Wizards goes back centuries. When you are not only taught to think that Dark Magic is wrong but also teach your own children the same, then as the years pass, new generations are born with this mentality. It becomes a disease of the mind that is spreading outward into society. Children are taught that being Dark is wrong. Books are published with this belief and believed as a fact and not the censored half-truth that it really is. Schools have a set list of magic that is taught and they too subtly slide in political beliefs as the youth is taught.”

            Harry sighed in disappointment. This was just reiterating his disagreement with the wizarding world. He didn’t understand the need for government influences like this.

            “Is it a surprise that the number of Light Wizards far outnumbers Dark Wizards? No. Because with so much taught to the youth at a young age, you were predetermined to believe what was right in front of you, never seeing what was truly there. But just because you weren’t taught all options doesn’t mean that it wasn’t there. Because it is. You just have to start looking.” Draco shrugged his shoulders. “And this time, look with more than just your eyes.”

            Fred breathed out a little shakily as George ran his fingers through his hair.

            “I feel as if I learned more in that little speech than I have in my two years spent at Hogwarts.” George spoke up as he looked to his brother.

            Harry got the feeling that it was said more for Fred than for them. So, he didn’t speak up.

            Draco rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t my aim to teach you anything. Although, if it makes you pause to think, then I will take it.”

            The two boys were still staring at each other, which had Draco looking to Harry with confused brows.

            Harry shrugged his shoulders. With the way the two were turned towards each other, it was hard to see all of the emotions play on their faces, so he couldn’t really say what it was that was happening.

            Fred turned towards Draco with a considering expression. “Do you think you could direct us to something that goes into more details of the things you spoke about?”

            Draco blinked rapidly, amusing Harry as he smirked openly.

            “Yes.” It was said slowly, as if the boy was unsure of where this was going. “It might take me a couple days but I can find the information.” There was a pause as he leaned forward, allowing a smirk to appear on his face. “But at a price. I am not in the habit of doing things out of the kindness of my heart.”

            The twins folded their arms across their chests in unison, adopting a disgruntled expression and arched brows. “Definitely a Slytherin.” Fred complained. “We don’t have to learn any of this at all. We could pretend that none of this was even said.”

            The unimpressed stare that Draco released was one of his finer works, at least that was Harry’s opinion. He could see the way it made Fred and George uneasy. “Yes, because living ignorant in the face of knowledge is something that everyone should aspire to do.” The sarcastic reply was said with a sigh.

            Fred furrowed his brows when Harry snorted slightly. “You like his rude behavior?” There was only curiosity in the question.      

            “Oh, yes.” Harry admitted with a one shouldered shrug. “Makes things interesting, don’t you think? Stops the monotony of everyday life.”

            Draco grinned but before he could say anything, George spoke up. “What is it you want?” There was suspicion there but Harry wasn’t surprised. It was always smart to be suspicious when participating in deals. Especially if up against someone who was used to getting what they wanted.

            “I want an undisclosed boon to be announced at a later date.”

            Both brothers scoffed. “We may not be as smart as Ravenclaws but we aren’t _that_ stupid.”

            “Even if it won’t affect your magic, life or have a monetary value?” Draco countered.

            The way silver eyes were sparkling and the confident posture, Harry could tell that the blonde already knew what he wanted but was pushing to see how far he could go.

            “Hold that thought.” Fred told Draco with a finger raised before he and George put themselves in a group huddle of two.

            Harry and Draco shared an incredulous look, both not expecting that. Harry tried to hear what they were saying but the brothers were good at keeping things quiet.

            Draco turned to Harry and shook his head in a mixture of impatience and exasperation. Words weren’t really needed. Harry knew Draco enough to know that the boy wasn’t very comfortable with the Weasley twins. If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure about them either.

            A clearing of a throat had Harry and Draco turning back to Fred and George. “As long as it doesn’t harm us in any way, includes the parameters that you already mentioned and isn’t dangerous, we will accept.”

            Draco hummed as he tilted his head to the side. “Further limiting me was smart, color me impressed.”

            Both of them rolled their eyes at the way the two brothers puffed up their chest.

            “You got yourself a deal Weasley and Weasley.” Draco held out his hand and shook both of theirs.

            George clapped his hands together before rubbing them excitedly. “Now that you have given both of us an existential crisis that will last for months—”

           “We have pranks to accomplish in a means of trying to make the world make sense again.” Fred finished for him with a matching grin.

            Pranks. That would explain their need to scope out vantage points and exit strategies. Harry was finding them rather intriguing.

            Draco narrowed his eyes. “Make me a part of any of your pranks and I will not only respond in kind but also maim you in the process.”

            “Someone doesn’t know how to have fun.” Fred stage whispered with an exaggerated wink.

            “Well Freddie, I don’t know about you but I find the prospect of getting maimed as a challenge.”

            Fred hummed. “As in trying to guess which body parts we will lose? Or if we will be caught in the first place?

            With that being their parting words, Harry was left rather amused as both boys exited the room with a cheery wave and giant grins. He looked over to Draco but snorted at the way the boy had froze and was blinking rapidly.

            “Why do I have a feeling they are going to be a giant disaster?”

            Harry entwined their arms as he pulled them out of the small room. “Because you aren’t stupid.”

            “I think that’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”  

            “That’s an exaggeration.” Harry countered. “I don’t think I’ve ever said anything nice to you.”

            He could tell that Draco was trying to remain stoic but by the twitching of pink lips and sparkling amusement in his eyes, the boy had failed.

            They found an empty compartment and breathed a sigh of relief at that. Harry could tell that Draco was just as glad as he was that they wouldn’t have to deal with anyone else or make polite conversations.

            As Harry sat down next to Draco, he pulled out a book. Before he could open it, a pale hand on his own stopped him.

            “I just wanted to tell you that you are my best friend too.”

            Grey eyes wouldn’t look at him and a light flush had appeared on pale cheeks.

            This was a situation that required thought. Saying the wrong thing would cause the other boy to shut him out. The admission wasn’t necessary, which led Harry to believe that it was hard for Draco to voice.

            When in doubt, do nothing. Harry said nothing as he opened his book with his free hand, keeping the one underneath Draco’s still. The tension that had been in Draco’s shoulders eased with each minute that passed without Harry speaking.

            There can be comfort in silence. A compatible understanding that words don’t have to be said to enjoy each other’s company. When Draco pulled out his own book, Harry knew that he had chosen well in candidates for his best friend. Not that there were other options but that was irrelevant.

            The long train ride was better than Harry expected. Conversations between books was easy and enjoyable, at least for Harry.

            “Explain that to me again.” Draco demanded with crossed arms and an exasperated expression. “Insulting potions does not bode well for this friendship.”

            Harry laughed lowly. “I just think that potions isn’t very challenging. Anyone who can follow instructions can perform the necessary requirements to brewing.”

            “But that is where you are wrong.”

            The counter had Harry silently asking for more as he gestured with his hand for Draco to go on.

            “You are only thinking on the surface level. If you only delve into potions enough to follow the instructions then you don’t actually know potions very well. There are hundreds of ingredients and thousands of different recipes that will give you the same potion just made differently.”

           The passion was back in his voice and this was the true reason that Harry had brought it up. It wasn’t that he didn’t like potions, because he did, there was something cathartic about knowing exactly what was going to happen if instructions were followed closely. He just liked listening to Draco speak about things the boy loved.

            “I can add one ingredient that isn’t on the instructions in the books and it can improve the shelf life, add in preventive measures against side effects or even change it to taste better. There is an endless list of things I could do but if you were to only follow what is written before you, then you wouldn’t know this. My potions would be far superior. Potions is something that takes a certain level of deeper thought. Trial and error is inevitable but the benefits far outweigh the risk.”

            Harry smiled softly as Draco’s hands started moving around the more he became animated in the debate. He leaned to the side a little until he was able to rest his head on the boy’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He made sure to hum in the right spots and nod his head but he allowed Draco’s voice to lull him into a light sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

            Hours or minutes could have passed but Harry wasn’t really aware of which one was accurate. The sound of the compartment door opening harshly woke him up but he chose to allow Draco to be the one in control of ushering whoever was there out. He kept his eyes closed but drew his magic up in a wave of protection and also allowing his senses to open in awareness. It was hard to tell just what kind of person or people were there. Either due to his novice and not perfected skill or because they didn’t have powerful magic.

            The latter was probably true but Harry figured it was a combination of the two. Children at their age didn’t have that much control in their magical abilities.

            “There you are Draco, honestly we have searched every compartment for you. I was beginning to think that you really had gotten admitted into Durmstrang instead.” A female voice piped up.

            There was a warmth to the girl’s voice and it was something that Harry wasn’t sure he liked. Not that any logical explanation could explain that away. If he wasn’t attempting to feign sleep, he would’ve furrowed his brows at his own odd emotions.

            “Because that would be tragic.” A sarcastic voice spoke up as well. “My only wish was that you wouldn’t be on this train.”

            “Piss off, Blaise.” Draco sniped back with exasperation. There was a slight amount of warmth to the blonde’s voice but not something that was comparable to how they were talking to him. Leading Harry to surmise that they weren’t that close in regard to friendship.

            “Who’s that?” The tone was curious but also a little condescending. “And why would you allow a stranger to sleep on you.” The boy continued in a chiding manner.

            “He’s not sleeping.”

            Harry tilted his head back and opened one eye to peer curiously at Draco and lifted one corner of his lip.

            “You aren’t as sneaky as you like to think.” Draco teased with a small smile. “I felt the way you tensed when Pansy rudely slammed open the compartment door.”

            “I wouldn’t call it rude. I was announcing my presence.” The girl mumbled, neither boy looked away to give her attention.

            “So, you wanted to see what I would do?” Harry wondered.

            “Your inaction fascinates me at times.” Explained Draco with a shrug that moved Harry’s head. “I wanted to know how long you’d fake it.”

            Another of the many reasons Harry liked Draco. The boy was just intriguing and not to mention knew him in ways that no one else had ever attempted.

            “And who might you be?” The female voice had Harry looking away from Draco and to the two new guests.

            The first impression Harry gleamed from them was wealth. That much was clear from their pristine robes and polished aura. The two couldn’t be more different from each other, it had nothing to do with looks and more about how they held themselves. He couldn’t quite tell what exactly it was that was different from one to the other.

            Harry narrowed his eyes as he tried to figure out what it was. Blaise seemed to hold himself straighter as cold eyes assessed him. Which showed a certain level of distrust. Something that he couldn’t fault the boy for. There was a regal stance to him, one that was entitled but less so than was expected. Thus, showing that perhaps his social standing wasn’t something the boy cared as deeply about as the Malfoys. There wasn’t a definitive vibe of power to him either, which was as confusing as much as it was intriguing. He remembered the way the Weasley twins had felt, remembered the way a few of the wizards in Diagon Alley had felt who were Light Wizards. Blaise didn’t feel quite like that. There was something similar but not enough to be conclusively light. The same could be said about a certain darkness to the boy as well. Perhaps this was a Grey Wizard? Or maybe someone who hadn’t yet chosen a side? The boy’s eyes shifted from Harry’s face to Draco, and back again. As if looking for approval of some kind. This was a sign that the boy was a follower. But… that didn’t have to be a bad thing. At least in this instance.

            When it was clear that he would need more to properly assess the boy, Harry looked to the girl. Pansy was definitely more pretentious than Blaise. She was regarding him with the same suspicion but it was clear that there was a slight dislike to her eyes. Which was a little confusing. She knew nothing about him but had formulated some kind of opinion. Perhaps she had observed him as he was doing to her, only she found something undesirable? He wasn’t too sure.

            Unlike Blaise, there was only darkness to her. This was someone who not only came from a family of Dark Wizards but was practiced in Dark Magic as well. He wondered if she could pick up on his own magic. Although, he doubted this since most wizards seem to use their wands to accomplish spells. Despite the Dark Magic the girl clearly was adept at, there wasn’t a whole lot of power to her. This showed that she either hadn’t reached her full potential or she hadn’t tried yet. He arched a brow when the girl crossed her arms and frowned at him. What was with the hostility? Was this why Draco didn’t seem to be too warm with her, since an obvious show of emotions was not something the blonde liked in people?

            He couldn’t deny that Pansy was intelligent. There was just a keen expression to her, especially as her eyes travelled over his face. As if trying to place him. This was someone who retained knowledge and had a capacity for remembering faces and perhaps more. His first thought was to say that she was a leader but the repetitive glances towards Draco and Blaise and the way the questions were worded, had him reconsidering. She was a follower.

            Harry looked between them, trying to see what else he could gleam from the pair. They had arrived together, showing that they were at least friends with each other. The little space between the two of them showed a familiarity and a subconscious thought to be near one another. It was clear that these two were close friends.

            “Harry Potter.” He didn’t offer out his hand to shake because neither of them had offered first. There was etiquette to being polite but they hadn’t done anything just yet to warrant that.

            Harry let out a long-suffering sigh when eyes snapped up to his forehead. If he was a less patient person, he might succumb to hexing people. He just hoped that the other students wouldn’t treat him the same way.

            He watched Pansy and Blaise arch their brows. For a moment, Harry thought they were looking to him with suspicion but the longer he stared, the more he realized it was a calculated look. They were assessing everything about him all over again. That was the only thing that saved his opinion of them. It is easy to form misconceived notions about someone when you don’t have the proper information. He himself has done that from time to time. It was a downside to humanity. But in the face of new information, if one was to ignore the truth and continue to see things as they had wrongly assumed in the first place, that is where Harry wouldn’t be able to see past. Ignorance is something that breaks his patience. He held no room for people who see the truth but ignore it.

            Blaise was the first to offer his hand. “Blaise Zabini.”

            Harry didn’t say anything but took his time in reaching out to shake his hand. It was more a tactic of unsettling the other boy than it was for any true reasons. He felt Draco’s shoulders shake underneath his head and knew that he had been found out.

            The grip was strong but not overly done, there was a firm pressure and the length wasn’t too long or too short. This was a message in of itself and Harry could tell that pureblood etiquette had been taught to the boy. Which he had already assumed from the boy’s stance and attitude. But it was nice to be proven correct.

            “Pansy Parkinson.” Harry tilted his head to the side as he looked to her hand first and then her. There was still mistrust but there was also a sense of curiosity to her. She seemed to have gotten over her dislike of him but it made him wonder what had been the problem in the first place. Was she only changing her opinion due to his name? If so, she was not someone he wanted to get to know. Because people would be sorely mistaken if they held any belief that he cared about his namesake in the slightest.

            There was a shifting of her eyes the longer he stared at her, letting him know that he was making her uncomfortable. Which was his goal. He wanted to see how she would handle that. Would she revert to emotions and lash out? Would she use logic and already know what he was doing? Or would she be silent and wait it out? This is why he loved observing people. It was always a mystery at what they would do and he loved that.

            Right when it seemed that she would pull her hand away, Harry snatched it back with quick reflexes and only allowed contact briefly. He smirked slightly at the way he seemed to have unnerved her. “I think we are going to be great friends.”

            Both Harry and Draco laughed when Pansy’s eyes widened in what could only be described as horror. As if the prospect of being his friend was the furthest thing she would want.

            Pansy’s eyes narrowed at the both of them. “You are messing with me.”

            “Spot on.” The two chortling boys responded sarcastically together.

            “I don’t think I can take two of them.” Blaise stage whispered to Pansy. “Draco was bad enough. This much snark is unhealthy. My mind healer says it’s unwise to allow other people’s bad habits to rub off on me.”

            That had Pansy rolling her eyes. “Your mother’s bartender is _not_ a legitimate mind healer. He gets paid to listen to people gripe before making them drinks.”

            “Yes.” Blaise conceded as he sat down. “But he isn’t getting paid to be her boyfriend.”

            Draco shook his head rapidly. “What does that have to do with anything? I feel sorry for him if she has her eyes set on him. I lost count of how many husbands this makes.”

            Blaise waved his hand in the air, dismissing this entirely. “She won’t kill him, he has no money. So, therefore no new husband in him.”

            Harry furrowed his brows. At first, he thought they were joking about the murder reference but he could tell by the easy way that Blaise spoke, that it was the truth. Which was startling.

            “My point was that he wasn’t even being a bartender when I would accompany her to his business.” The boy shot a glare at Pansy. “And he _is_ a mind healer, just one in training.”

            Pansy let out a low whistle. “That makes him what 18 to 20? Your mum is going for the younger guys.”

            “As long as her next husband isn’t in his seventies like the last one, I could care less the age of my next ‘father’.”

            “The wizarding world is a lot stranger than I originally thought.” Harry mused out loud.

            “Or it’s just Blaise and his family.” Pansy argued with a smug grin at the way Blaise glared.

            “I like to think you both are weird and I am just going to have to admit myself into St. Mungos if I have to breathe the same air as you for even a moment more.” Draco drawled out, interrupting whatever Blaise might have said.

            Being the recipient of two harsh glares didn’t seem to faze Draco. Harry was intrigued by their dynamics and was interested in finding out more about Pansy and Blaise.

            “How long have you three known each other?”

            The three looked to each other before Pansy hummed in thought. “Our parents have a lot of social gatherings, so we saw a lot of each other over the years.”

            There was no mention of being friends or childhood memories. Just that they saw each other a lot. This played into his assumption that they weren’t that close. Which wasn’t too odd to fathom. Especially considering the type of person Lucius was. Harry _highly_ doubted that Lucius Malfoy had an honest to god friend. Not acquaintances, not someone who can get the man somewhere in the political aspects of society, not someone who needed an inside knowledge of the Ministry or even someone who showed up to his social gatherings. None of that counted. Lucius was the type of person to keep a lot of people in his pocket but never close enough to actually get to know the man. If Blaise or Pansy’s parents were even half of what the Malfoy Lord was like, then it wasn’t a surprise that the children didn’t form too many friendships either.

            Which also made sense as to why he was Draco’s only friend. Not that Harry was judging because he had never had a friend either but it shed some insight into the type of lonely existence some people live with. Was this a typical situation for families that are Dark or Grey? Or was this an odd pureblood etiquette thing?

           Harry didn’t buy into the classifications of blood at all. The separation of purebloods, half-bloods and muggleborns was counterproductive. It just drove the wedge of ignorance higher. Not only was their duality to the world in means of magic but now the very same people who are being oppressed due to their beliefs in magic are the same ones trying to demean those who are born into non-magical families? It was mind boggling and completely hypocritical. How can those who know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of unjustified hate, be comfortable turning around and doing the same thing with a new title and a weak excuse?

            He supposed that there was more to the story than what was told but he didn’t like it already. It reminded him too much of the hatred and discrimination in the muggle world. One can dress up hate however they like, but the proof is always written in the attitude.

            There is always a reason for everything. Whether Harry agreed with the reasoning would be the true question. He would wait to hear a legitimate argument on the subject before he allowed any indignation to root up. He just hoped that there was something worthwhile in there.

            The topic of the different blood status’ had been brought up before at the Malfoys but it was always done in ways that left no room for voicing questions. It was obvious that this wasn’t something they had wanted to talk with him about, so he accepted this and chose to read up on it instead. But after listening to the passionate way Draco had explained the issues Dark Wizards face, he was beginning to think that he should’ve had the other boy explain it to him. Because there wasn’t much to go on.

            “I should get compensation for putting up with them for as long as I have.” Draco told Harry with a smirk, shooting the other two superior looks.

            Pansy rolled her eyes before giving Harry a sympathetic look. “Just you wait, soon he’ll treat you like this too.”

            “No.” Draco argued without losing his smirk. “I actually like Harry.” The ‘unlike you’ was left out but clearly implied.

            “This is bullshit.” Blaise complained with a huff. “Harry gets preferential treatment, despite us knowing you for far longer.”

            “No one said the world was fair.” Harry chimed in with a straight face that was supposed to look innocent. Not that he knew quite how to be something as trivial as innocent.

            Pansy looked between Harry and Draco with a sour expression. “Blaise, you were right. They are too much alike.”

            That had Draco rolling his eyes. “Go bother someone else. Perhaps Vincent and Greggory would enjoy your horrible company.”

            “I’m sure they will.” Pansy retorted as she pulled Blaise up and made her way towards the compartment door. “At least they don’t voice their rude opinions.”

            “Maybe to your face.” Draco’s counter was met with a suspicious look.

            “Blaise, I think I need to have a word with Greg and Vincent.” The anger on her face had Draco smirking rather smugly.

            Draco sighed in what Harry could only describe as relief as they were left alone again.

            Despite the different aspects to meeting Pansy and Blaise, Harry wasn’t too sure how he felt about either of them. He didn’t like or dislike them but they were interesting in their own ways.

            Harry picked up his discarded book and peered at it but not with curiosity, his mind was thinking rapidly and needed time to process all of the different social cues and interactions that had happened just in today alone.

            “Were you telling the truth?” Harry wondered as he looked back to Draco.

            A blonde eyebrow arched. “About Greg and Vincent? No. A Slytherin has no problem announcing their displeasure. If they wanted to speak negatively about Pansy, they would say it to her face. Hiding behind fake smiles and polite expressions is downright insulting. Not to mention cowardice. I have little respect for those who can’t be honest to my face. A negative opinion is at least an honest one.”

            Harry wasn’t one for fake politeness either, which is another common trait he shared with Draco. It was odd to him to see people pretend to be what they aren’t or even just to lie to save their own image. His uncle was constantly faking a nice attitude around the neighbors but was _nothing_ like that in private. Despite the way he was treated, he could agree that a negative opinion was honest. He would rather his uncle scream his hatred then to pretend to have liked him.

            “Pansy would know this.” Harry suddenly realized.

            Draco chuckled as he nudged Harry’s shoulder. “A little slow on the draw.” He teased. “Yes, she knew that I wanted her to leave and that I was just being an arse on purpose.”

            “Odd friendship.”

            That had Draco squinting one eye as he scrunched his face in thought. “If you can call it that, then yes.” There was a pause as silver eyes looked away, not meeting Harry’s eyes.

            “My father… has certain expectations and demands of me. With me being his only heir, I am honor bound to accomplish them.” A harsh bitterness in his tone had Harry frowning.

            “Lessons were instilled early as a child, ones that didn’t permit certain freedoms. Friendships and the liberty to do nothing was part of that. Don’t get me wrong, I like Pansy and Blaise but I was never able to form a connection to them. Partly due to my father’s beliefs but also because there just wasn’t a connection to begin with.”

            Draco looked down to his hands briefly before clearing his throat. “I don’t like people. They annoy me while I annoy them. I notice their faults long before I notice anything positive, _if_ there is ever a positive. So, having a lack of friends was no problem. Can you truly miss what was never granted to you?” There was a slightly uncomfortable silence that followed before Draco looked up, and peered at Harry curiously.

            “And then you come along and ruined that.”

            There was something in his eyes that Harry couldn’t identify _at all._ Why did the admission make him feel as if he should be blushing? That wasn’t alright with him. This is why friendships were hard. There was a certain order to them that he hadn’t quite figured out what to do with. Was he supposed to return the sentiment? Was he supposed to say something about this? Draco had to know that it was the same for him. He had never even tried to find a connection with someone before. Never bothered to care and never wanted to either. Could he voice this without actually saying so?

            There was a tension in Draco’s shoulders, it was clear that his friend wasn’t wanting a big deal to be made and Harry was relieved at that. He was lost, completely out of his element when it came to this. Why couldn’t people just make sense? He nodded once, letting Draco know that he acknowledged this but wasn’t going to speak on it.

            “What are my faults? What did you notice about me before my glaring positives demanded your attention?”

            Draco’s light laughter broke the tension and had both of them relaxing minutely.

            “It certainly wasn’t your overwhelming humble attitude that caught my attention.”

            Harry grinned at the sarcastic reply as everything shifted and their easy banter fell into a sense of normal. As if everything made sense again.

           “In all seriousness… your biggest fault is your horrible hair.”

            That had Harry huffing out a laugh as he shook his head. He had assumed it would be something noteworthy. But his hair? That seemed a little anticlimactic.

            “That’s the best insult that you have?”

            A soft smile appeared on Draco’s face, one that had Harry highly curious.

            “It was the only thing there.”

            _Oh._ Harry looked away and turned his head rapidly. A sudden uncomfortable heat was coming from his face and he _hated_ it. He was far from perfect and had many faults. No one in life was free of flaws. Logically, he knew that Draco was aware of this as well but he also knew the blonde enough to know that words had impact. Draco wouldn’t be saying this if he didn't mean them.

            A tentative throat clearing had Harry turning his head to Draco.

            “What are my faults?”

            Harry shook his head with a quirking of his lips. “Nothing. Not a single thing.”

            “I knew it. I’ve always been perfect.” Draco lifted his nose in the air but his eyes were sparkling, saying what he couldn’t.

            This was a duality that Harry could understand. This was just Draco, and that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, thoughts on the first part of the chapter? I so don't want to say anything because I know I will say too much and I refuse to give things away. But yes, that was the diary he was feeling. And no, I won't say another peep! :P
> 
> Fred and George. I debated a lot with going this route. I considered a lot of things and don't think for one minute that them being curious about what Draco said will magically erase the things they have been taught. Being taught to think one way for so long won't be something that can be changed so easily. I don't think they will ever be able to not be light wizards but perhaps they can be more than just that? That's all I will really say. Don't hold your breath for Harry being close friends with Fred and George either. He isn't really the friendship kind of guy. Well, unless your name is Draco. 
> 
> Duality is so important, I don't just mean for this one chapter either. As Harry said, nothing is ever straightforward. With just about all Slytherin Harry stories or even considering Draco's character itself, duality is something that has to be in the back of someone's mind. You can be bad and good at the same time. You can be polar opposites and still be yourself. There really is duality to all kinds of things. This is not the only time you will see this message in the story. 
> 
> I think that with Draco being raised to learn about Dark Magic and then hearing from society that its bad and wrong would give him a lot of confusion. I think that he would want to form his own opinion and that is where the passion comes from when he speaks of the injustice being done to Dark wizards. Which also led to the hypocritical things that Harry picked up on. Because no, you can't face discrimination and then turn around and do it to someone else. It just doesn't work like that. That's how the victims become the bullies. 
> 
> So, you may have noticed a contradiction between this chapter and some of the others. I am talking about Harry's magic. In the second chapter, he thinks about his magic and how HE is the one in control and HE is the one to bend it to his will. This completely goes against what Draco's teachings on Dark Magic has been taught. Let that be a hint. I won't say more but keep that in your thoughts. 
> 
> This story won't be straightforward. I aim to make you think and there will be a lot of duality to it. There will be times where you will see grey in things I write but will also have you understanding where it's coming from. There are many ways of interpreting something and that is where a lot of my inspiration comes from. 
> 
> Hopefully you liked this chapter, and I will try and update within the next week to two weeks! 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


	5. Potential

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you follow me on tumblr, then you will have noted that I gave out a snippet of this chapter two days ago, I was still trying to finish it and needed some kind of motivation to keep me going. It was about 1k words but it did actually help me finish the chapter. 
> 
> So, I planned on this chapter being around 6-7k words but guys, it's 12k. Fuck. I guess better for you but geez. There aren't any warnings for this chapter. I do want to note that all names mentioned in this chapter that you might not recognize are from Harry Potter Wikipedia. So, I didn't just make any up. 
> 
> Other than that, I don't think there is anything else. Enjoy!

            Potential. The word isn’t limited to any one type of person. Anyone and everyone has potential. The potential to be better, stronger and wiser. The potential to be softer, kinder and friendlier. The potential to be tougher, meaner and angrier. The potential to _try_ harder. The potential to do _more_. Or even the potential to _not_ be who they are. Definitions are limitless if one has the means to make it possible.

            Lost potential can be one of the most debilitating concepts. Whether the person never realized their full potential or no one bothered to _see_ that potential. Years of waste and nothing is a sin in of itself. So much can be accomplished if people would just _try_.

            The Dursleys had the potential to be kinder but chose to ignore it. They had the potential to raise a relative in a loving home but disregarded it. They had the potential to be original in a neighborhood of conformists but didn’t bother to care. They could be _so much more_ if they only noticed the sheer potential that is inside of _everyone_.

            Lucius had the potential to be well rounded instead of choosing to vilify those born into non-wizard households, but just didn’t care. The man had the potential to use his political status to change the minds of others but didn’t want to. He had the potential to be a firm leader but chose to keep to his own beliefs instead of _seeing_ other options. The Malfoy Lord has so much potential and it’s just being wasted.

            Harry has observed so many people throughout his life and seeing potential was by far one his more favored things to witness.

            A little child in the park who likes to mold and create sandcastles could be the next artist of the century. The bully who crushes the next sandcastle could be someone whose potential is lost early on or someone who gets a reality check and _changes_ who they are. The teenager who helps fix the castle could be the next advocate for those who can’t fight back. The bystander that does nothing but is humbly touched could become someone who writes what they witness and touches the hearts of those who weren’t there to see it.

            Each one of them has the potential to _be_ something. If only they tapped into what is already there waiting underneath the surface.

            Or maybe, they just need someone to come along who sees this potential and helps it flourish.

 

* * *

 

 

            “There is absolutely no way I am getting in that.” Draco crossed his arms and glared at Hagrid.

            Harry’s mouth twitched in response as he looked around at the boats they were to get inside. Everyone seemed to have formed groups of four and were making their way towards the dodgy looking boats.

            Hagrid seemed to completely tune out Draco’s complaints to get inside his own boat that was severely enlarged.

            “I think it will be okay.” A timid voice spoke up, causing Draco to spin around a little angrily.

            Harry cocked his head to the side as he considered the boy next to them. He had dark blonde hair, neatly in place. A warm shade of brown eyes that were currently regarding Draco in slight fear. The boy was clutching a toad so tightly that Harry worried the poor thing would die of either suffocation or strangulation.

            By the pristine robes, Harry knew that this boy was of money. His guess would be old money, due to trousers he could see through the robes that were far too elegant for a typical student. The stance had him knowing that the other boy often adopted this pose. This was proven correct by the fact that there wasn’t an uncomfortable straining of muscles. Which showed that his home life probably wasn’t too pleasant if the boy felt the need to draw in on himself. The hands holding the toad were shaking, showing an intense dislike of confrontation.

            All of this at first glance showed Harry that the boy could potentially be a coward. But… was it because of his own personality or because that was how he was raised? Was it nature or nurture that was the issue?

            It was difficult to feel out the stranger’s magic, not because of his age but more because it wasn’t geared toward anything. The magic was almost comparable to a blank canvas and _that_ was absolutely intriguing.

            Harry placed a hand on Draco’s arm and waited until his friend’s shoulders dropped slightly, showing that he would give Harry the go ahead.

            “What’s your name?” Harry saw Draco’s brows raise in surprise at the friendly tone and he had to hide a smirk. He needed to see the stranger in different circumstances to really gain a new perspective on him.

            He glanced back at the timid boy and watched as his small show of kindness _melted_ away all fear. This was someone who had probably never been on the receiving end of _any_ kindness in his whole life. Which was enlightening.

            “Neville Longbottom.” It wasn’t said with much feeling and was a little breathy, but it was enough to make Harry pause. This could go either really well… or really bad.

            Harry locked eyes with Draco and waited patiently for the other boy to give him a hint. He wasn’t good with names and by the boy’s clothes, he _knew_ that he just had to be someone that Draco would know. At least by surname.

            There was exasperation in silver eyes and Harry knew that Draco didn’t understand _why_ he was bothering to care. He himself wasn’t even sure if he was really going to avert attention to the boy either, which is why he was looking to Draco in the first place.

            A small, almost invisible nod of agreement could be seen, and it had Harry turning back towards the boy who was looking at them in confusion.

            “What about your toad? Do they have a name?”

            “Trevor.” It was clear that the question had thrown Neville completely. Probably not used to any form of attention.

            Harry glanced towards the other students and noticed that Hagrid was helping a few of them into boats, which worked well for his conversation.

            “What kind of toad is he?” He heard Draco’s sigh of impatience and he couldn’t help but smile in response.

            The question had a happy glint forming in Neville’s eyes and it completely transformed the boy. Harry nodded politely when the boy began talking of theories on the origin of the first toad and what was healthier for Common Toads.

            Harry could tell by the way Neville become animated at the topics the boy knew well, that there was unbridled potential just gleaming, waiting for someone to come along and give a gentle nudge. It was clear by the wide variety of knowledge that Neville was smart, only question was if the boy believed that himself?

            Draco nudged him once in the rib and he looked up to see resignation in his eyes but there was also a small twitching of pink lips. Harry didn’t need words to know that Draco was a little intrigued by Neville as well. The boy was _nothing_ like them and that… was refreshing.

            It was only when Neville stopped talking that they stopped looking at each other and glanced as one, towards the other boy.

            Draco cleared his throat and snorted at the way Neville eyed him nervously. “Welcome.” He extended his hand slowly and shot Harry a smug look. As if to say, ‘See? I can play nice’.

            “Welcome to what?” Neville asked in confusion as he extended his hand out as well.

            “It would seem that you are going to be a part of what was once a duo.”

            “Okay.” Neville said slowly, looking unsure but excited at the same time. “But shouldn’t I know your names first before we become a trio?”

            Harry let out a little laugh as he shared an amused look with Draco. “He is Draco Malfoy.” He snorted at the way Neville’s eyes widened drastically. “And I am Harry Potter.”

            “Oh wow. Things just got interesting.” Or complicated. Harry could see there was a slight worry to his eyes, but he wasn’t sure what was the cause of that.

            Draco let out a loud laugh as he shook his head. “I just might like you, Neville.” He paused for a moment as he narrowed his eyes in thought. “One thing is for certain, we are going to be the best friends you could possibly have.” Draco tilted his head to the side. “Not to mention the most elegant, too.”

            Both of them could tell instantly that Neville had never had a friend. Which was the common thread among their sad little trio. But… Draco’s words had gone a long way towards Neville and Harry knew that the boy was already agreeing with Draco completely.

            Neville had been right about one thing. Harry knew that things had definitely become interesting.

 

* * *

 

 

            “That was entirely unnecessary.” Draco complained as he helped pull Neville out of the boat, while Harry held onto Trevor. “We could have been taken in with the rest of the students. They just wanted to torture us.”

            Harry exchanged an amused look with Neville as he handed Trevor to him. The blonde had been a right mess of complaints the entire ride over. Complaints over who was responsible for the boat itself, who was going to be blamed if he fell in, who was the nitwit who decided that it was wise to have boats full of emotion ridden children by themselves, without someone with magic guiding them. Draco had talked so much that he hadn’t even noticed that he had been the only one speaking.

            “I don’t know if that counts as torture.” Neville piped up quietly.

            Draco sighed heavily. “Neville, if this friendship is going to work, I need you to agree with everything I say.”

            “He’s kidding.” Harry told him when Neville looked worried. “He really meant that you have to agree with everything _I_ say.”

            Neville looked between them rapidly for a moment. “You both are horrible.” The reprimand was uttered softly but with a bright smile.

            Draco hummed in agreement. “That, is definitely the truth.” He took one arm and entwined it with Harry and then his other arm was entwined with Neville. “But being horrible doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

            “I’m beginning to realize that.”

            Harry and Draco shared a look, neither one of them knowing if Neville had spoken to himself or them.

            The rest of the students were huddled together, some looking frightened of everything they walked pass on the trek to the castle. Which had Draco rolling his eyes.

            “Would it kill people to show less emotion?”

            “How so?” Neville asked curiously, all of them ignoring the odd looks they were getting by still walking side by side, arms entwined.

            Draco gestured where one girl was walking too close to another student, invading many levels of personal space. “That one keeps craning her neck all around and making odd noises as she looks at the scenery. It’s clear that she is afraid of the dark.”

            Harry sighed a little happily, ignoring the amused look Draco sent him. It was just nice to have someone else that noticed the behavior of others.

            The observation had Neville’s brows pinching as his tongue peeked out, lost in thought. “What about him?”

            They both looked over to a boy who was looking at everything in open awe.

            “Obviously a muggleborn.” Draco began.

            Harry nodded in agreement, noticing that the boy hadn’t even put on his robes. He was wearing muggle clothing, but they were several years old and slightly rumpled. “He misses his family.”

            “How in the world can you tell that?” Asked Neville, completely bewildered.

            “It’s the way he’s clutching the locket around his neck.” Draco pointed out, watching as the boy’s fist clenched around the part that would hold a photo.

            “Mhm.” Harry agreed with a nod. “Not to mention the way his eyes are shifting each time he sees something interesting. This shows that he is happy to be here, but each new thing also reminds him that his family isn’t here.”

            “Who are you two?” Neville’s voice was filled with wonder.

            They both laughed freely. “People who enjoy keeping things private.” Harry answered for Draco as well. “Emotions can be used against you. The girl afraid of the dark, that’s something that might not be useful knowledge right now. But say in a few years, we are practicing dueling, and she’s my opponent. I already know what will work on her.”

            Draco hummed in agreement. “Some people grow out of childhood fears but hers seems to be pretty potent.”

            “And the boy? What’s wrong with missing his family?”

            That had Harry and Draco sharing a considering look. “Well, nothing is wrong with that per se.” Draco began a little hesitantly. “Family can be the support one needs to thrive, _but_ it can also be a distraction.”

            “Especially, if they aren’t supportive.” Harry took over thoughtfully. “I don’t think this is the case with him. People who miss their family, typically have a decent relationship with them.”

            Draco lifted his free hand, interrupting Harry’s line of thought. “You’re right, that’s not the case here. He misses his family and that is a distraction. If he gets over that quickly then it was just a fleeting issue. But say a month from now, he still can’t properly enjoy himself due to being homesick, then his studies are going to go down and he will be an easy target for all kinds of things.”

            “Huh.” Neville muttered thoughtfully. “I guess I never really pay attention to others that much.”

            “Occurring problem.” Draco retorted with a small shake of his head. “When you aren’t aware of your surroundings, you aren’t aware of the things you yourself give away.”

            Neville frowned slightly. It was clear that they had given him some things to think about.

            Once inside, they were instructed to wait for someone to come and take them to the sorting.

            “I heard that we have to fight a troll.” Someone whispered in the distance.

            “That’s not too hard. I could take on a troll.” A boy with brown hair and dimples whispered in exaggeration.

            “My brother said that we have to fight our worst fears.”

            “That’s a boggart.” Someone else corrected in a haughty tone.

            “We have to fight a boggart?” A boy with sandy hair asked, rather aghast.

            Draco rolled his eyes and let out a disappointed sound. “All we have to do is put on a hat that will sort us.”

            Everyone turned to him with disbelief written on their faces. “The boggart was more believable than that.”

            The dismissal had Draco’s eyes narrowing angrily.

            Harry leaned closer, till he could whisper in Draco’s ears. “The ignorant will always ignore what they don’t want to see.”

            “I know.” It was said bitterly, probably upset that he had let it get to him in the first place.

            “Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall.” A new voice had a few students startling in fright.

            There was a woman coming down the stairs, she was older than Hagrid and held herself stiffly. Quite stiffly. Not in the same way that Lucius was known to do. This was more an internal rigid stance, as if she didn’t know how to be relaxed. Her eyes were narrowed and sharp, taking in the appearance of several people and forming opinions already. He could see the way her eyes moved over them so rapidly, causing him to wonder if she was giving them all proper consideration. Such quick glances will miss _so much_ about a person. He supposed that she might be reserving judgment at a later date, but something was telling him that that wasn’t the case this time.

            Her hair was so tightly wound up that Harry could see that her roots were pulled back right at the top of her forehead. It would have to have hurt a little bit. Perhaps she had built a tolerance for pain? This was obviously someone that not only liked order but strict rules as well. Most likely her own rules or guidelines. There were no laugh lines on her face, which was surprising of someone her age. This was someone who was probably serious most of the time. If she was a teacher, Harry knew that she would be a tough one. Definitely not someone to cross.

            Harry listened as she began a very vague explanation of the school and the different houses. There was a definite lack of emotion in her tone, which didn’t necessarily bother him. It was more the lack of feeling in her eyes as well. He wondered what had happened in her life to become so closed off.

            “Form a line and follow me.”

            They waited until everyone else had scrambled to be the first in line. Harry heard Draco’s frustrated sigh and smiled in reply. Being the first meant nothing unless the context behind it was important.

            “She didn’t say it had to be single file.” Neville pointed out, stepping forward with the other two, still entwined.

            “That is true and quite Slytherin of you.” Draco complimented, smirking at the way Neville looked as if he wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.

            “Is that what house you both want to go in?”

            “Yes.” Harry and Draco responded in unison. Harry thought that separating the students was pointless and worked against a unified society but that was out of his hands. Being in Gryffindor did _not_ suit his personality whatsoever. Neither did being in Hufflepuff. He supposed being in Ravenclaw would be alright but after giving it some consideration and looking through a roster of past students, he felt that Slytherin would give him the best options later on in life.

            Harry leaned forward slightly, so that he could pay attention to Neville’s face. They had approached the Great Hall where the older students were watching them pass. But Harry was more interested in Neville at the moment.

            Neville bit his lip and Harry narrowed his eyes, watching a wide variety of emotions play across the boy’s face. He knew that this was important, essential to his plans. “But we would still be your friend, even if you were in a different house.”

            He had to hold in a smirk when he felt Draco jerk in surprise. A spark of warmth filled Neville’s eyes as he looked to Harry first and then Draco.

            “Yeah.” Draco said slowly, backing Harry up without knowing his intentions. “Even Gryffindor. Which is saying something.”

            Neville still seemed a little worried, but a small pleased smile was quirking at his lips.

            Curiosity shining in silver eyes had Harry shaking his head slightly. He mouthed the word, ‘later’ to Draco. He knew that the blonde wasn’t pleased but would be patient enough to wait.

            Once they made it to a large table that housed the teachers, they were instructed to stop. Harry looked around the room in interest and took in the décor. There were thousands of candles littered above the tables filled with students. It wasn’t hard to tell which house belonged to who. Even if there wasn’t a banner hanging up above, the personalities of some spoke volumes.

            The ceiling was by far the most pleasing to look out. The way it was bewitched to look like the sky outside was interesting. He would like to see the ceiling when it would represent a dark and gloomy day.

            There were ghosts sporadically spread out, as if they too were separated. His guess was that they each represented one of the houses but it was still so strange to see a division like this. As if being the qualities to multiple houses was wrong. Why couldn’t he be an embodiment of all of the houses? What was wrong with being unified?

            Movement out of the corner of Harry’s peripheral vision drew him back towards McGonagall. She had pulled out a stool and sat a _very_ old and slightly dirty hat down on top.

            A few students had turned to look at Draco, who glared at each one of them in turn for not believing him in the first place.

               When the hat moved and the brim formed what would represent a mouth, Harry narrowed his eyes. Being judged by a person or an inanimate-but-not object was _not_ something he liked. It didn’t matter that the hat had been charmed to see into his mind. Because no matter how powerful the charm was, there wasn’t a way to be able to take a person and sort them into just one house. People are complicated and have so many facets to them. So, being sorted should be just as complicated as the people being sorted. To get an exact science to the sorting would be impossible. Taking in the calculations for mistakes, Harry figured hundreds of students had been placed in the wrong house just in the past century alone.

            Not to mention that people _change_ as they get older. The seventeen-year-old graduate can be _far_ from the eleven-year-old that they once were. Why limit everyone from the beginning?

            He himself knew that he held Slytherin and Ravenclaw tendencies stronger than the other houses. But what exactly was a classification used to define him into one versus the other? Could the hat properly place someone or just give a basic guess?

            The song the hat sung was nearly meaningless. It was a gimmick to keep people believing that the hat was more useful than it really was. It wasn’t as if all of this was news. The books that the school had required them to bring, had all of the qualifications for each house in them. If the students had read what they should have, none of this was surprising.

            Harry tried not to be so bothered by the hat but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of _wrong_ that the school would entrust the future of the children to a silly old hat. Because the friends that were made, the lessons that were taught and the things the head of houses guided them towards, were all centered around what house one was placed in. So much could change by a simple sorting. Which Harry was _not_ in the belief that the hat could do this correctly in the first place.

            “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and wait until you are sorted.” McGonagall told them sternly, with her nose in a parchment.

            _“Abbott, Hannah!”_

            Harry looked to the ceiling, reigning in the control that would be needed to make it through the sorting. At the moment, he didn’t really care about the other first year students. There would be time to see them during lessons.

            “HUFFLEPUFF!”

            The conviction in the hat’s declaration bothered Harry more than anything has in quite a while. It was all just a farce and that angered him.

            Warm hands pulled him into an embrace and Harry didn’t have to look to know that it was Draco. No one else would have touched him.

            “The ignorant will always ignore what they don’t want to see.” The whispered words were the same ones he had told Draco but it still applied. All these people only saw what was right in front of them.

            _“Bones, Susan!”_

            Neither one of them paid the sorting any mind.

            “I know.” Harry whispered back, thankful that Draco understood him. Emotions weren’t something either of them liked to allow to come out and it would seem that today had tested them.

            “HUFFLEPUFF!”

            Harry knew that he shouldn’t allow the embrace to go for too long but he couldn’t bring himself to push Draco away. This would definitely turn into a weakness but if that was the only one, then perhaps that wasn’t so bad.

            _“Boot, Terry!”_

            “I’m not going to be hugged, right?” Neville asked, breaking their silence. “I get comradery and all, but I don’t want any hugs just yet.”

            “RAVENCLAW!”

            Harry snorted as he looked over Draco’s shoulder and looked at Neville. There was a teasing smile and it already had him knowing how this sorting would work out.

            “Better for me then.” Harry retorted softly. “Draco gives the best hugs.” Not that he had ever really had a hug before the blonde came around.

            _“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”_

            A breathy chuckle escaped Draco and it had both Neville and Harry sharing a smile.

            “Oh.” Neville’s voice had an interested tone to it. “Maybe I should reconsider.”

            “RAVENCLAW!”

            “No.” Harry wasn’t sure why he said that. It wasn’t as if he controlled what Draco did.

            Draco took a small step back, looking at Neville. “Sorry, I only give out hugs on special occasions.” There was a slight pause. “And so far, only to Harry.”

            _“Brown, Lavender!”_

            “Some trio.” Neville grumbled under his breath.

            The complaint had Draco and Harry laughing lightly.

            “You should be paying attention to the sorting.” A voice reprimanded them strongly.”

            “GRYFFINDOR!”

            Draco’s lip curled in distaste at the bossy tone as Harry arched a brow, turning to see who had said that.

            A girl with outrageously bushy hair—not that Harry could judge, his own hair was a disaster—was looking at them in confusion but also dislike. Her posture was firm but somewhat unsure. Which suggested she might be muggleborn. Her eyes weren’t gazing at them calculatingly, which wasn’t a good thing. This showed that she wasn’t aware of people on deeper levels. Her eyes were sharp and narrowed in at them in slight frustration. The robes were neatly in place and showed that she cared enough to make a first impression. Her teeth were slightly longer than normal but she didn’t seem to be insecure about it. This much was shown by her easy way of talking and zero attempts at hiding it.

            Her nails were clean—not immaculate like Draco’s—but clean nonetheless. There was a set order to her, which he deduced from the way she was holding herself. This was someone who liked rules, that much was obvious by her disapproval at their lack of attention. The bossy tone had suggested an aura of authority but whose? Hers? She was a student, just as they were. Harry wasn’t sure what to think. People telling him what to do would _never_ sit well with him.

            _“Bulstrode, Millicent!”_

“Why is that?” Draco questioned, folding his arms across his chest. “I wasn’t given any rules or orders regarding what was acceptable before the sorting.”

            “It’s just polite.” She retorted with a frown.

            “SLYTHERIN!”

            “By your standards.” Harry pointed out. “We haven’t done anything wrong. When the time comes, we will be sorted, just as you. What we do before, matters none.”

            “We aren’t being impolite by not paying attention.” Neville spoke up, surprising Harry and Draco. This was already someone very much different from the shaking boy a half hour ago.

            They all tuned out the next sorting of a ‘Corner, Michael’, who had been placed in Ravenclaw.

            The girl harrumphed a little but turned around when it was clear that they weren’t going to give up their opinion.

            _“Crabbe, Vincent!”_

            “I’m not sure I like her.” Draco whispered, quietly enough that the girl wouldn’t hear him. Which was honestly one of the nicest things Harry has seen the blonde do.

            “I think I will wait to reserve judgment.” Harry wanted to know more about her before he completely wrote her off. She seemed knowledgeable but how far did that knowledge go? She also had a liking for rules or what is seen as appropriate by society’s standings. Which wasn’t something he could agree with at all.

            “SLYTHERIN!”

            “Seems to be your norm.” Draco teased with a nudge to his shoulder. “Your inaction will never cease to intrigue me.”

            Harry rolled his eyes, nudging Draco right back, not bothering to tell him that reserving judgment _wasn’t_ inaction. He barely was aware of a ‘Davis, Tracey’ being placed in Slytherin as he watched Draco smirk at him.

            _“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”_

“Maybe she is nicer than what she showed.” Neville offered diplomatically, causing Harry and Draco to level him with an unimpressed look.

            The boy wasn’t offended but did look at them curiously. “You two are very much alike.”

            Draco looked at Harry in amusement as a ‘Finnigan, Seamus’, was sorted into Gryffindor. “I suppose we are.”

            _“Goldstein, Anthony!”_

There had been a fondness in Draco’s tone and it piqued Harry’s interest. He nodded his head towards Neville in agreement. They were alike and it was the best part of their friendship. At least to Harry.

            “RAVENCLAW!”

            Neville seemed to be considering them, more than what they would assume was how similar they are. To Harry, he figured the boy was figuring out how he himself would fit in amongst their dynamic.

            A ‘Goyle, Gregory’, was sorted into Slytherin just as Neville seemed to come to some kind of conclusion. Well, if the determination on his face was anything to go by.

            _“Granger, Hermione!”_

Neville cleared his throat, drawing their attention towards the girl who had just spoken to them. Well, at least they had a name to put to the face.

            “Any guesses?” Harry mused, finally taking interest in the sorting.

            “Ravenclaw.” Both Neville and Draco said as one.

            Harry hummed in thought, from the little he knew about her, that didn’t seem like a bad placement. But he wondered what other houses she would fit into as well.

            “RAVENCLAW!”

            Draco and Neville shared a smug look between them before Draco gave Harry a superior look.

            Harry ignored them as ‘Greengrass, Daphne’, became the next Slytherin. The sorting became boring once again as he watched ‘Hopkins, Wayne’ and ‘Jones, Megan’ go into Hufflepuff.

            Draco had been about to ask something after ‘Li, Sue’, was sorted into Ravenclaw but the hat’s next announcement had him pausing.

            _“Longbottom, Neville!”_

            Neville froze before turning to them with worried and frightened eyes, causing Draco to sigh heavily.

            “Neville, you got this. Don’t let anyone see your fear. If you can’t hide it then at least fake it.”

            “Because it can be used against me?”

            Draco grinned and slapped Neville on the back of his shoulder once. “Exactly.” There was a slight pause as Draco arched a brow. “But lighten up on your hold or we will have to bury Trevor.”

            That had Neville squeaking in horror as he loosened his grip and peered down at Trevor, making sure he was alright.

            Harry watched Neville straighten his shoulders and make his way towards the stool with a confidence that he knew the boy didn’t feel. It would seem that he was indeed going to fake it.

            “What do you think?” Draco asked curiously, looking at Neville calculatingly.

            “He’ll be in Slytherin.”

            Draco let out a strangled noise of surprise as he snapped his gaze to Harry, silently demanding an answer. “He seems more like a Hufflepuff to me.”

            “Exactly.” Harry smirked openly at Draco’s confusion. It wasn’t often that he got to see the blonde like this.

            “He wants to be our friend but he is worried that if he is sorted into another house that we won’t be.”

            Draco held up a hand. “But we told him the opposite.”

            “Yes.” Harry conceded. “He’s never had a friend before, that much is clear. Which shows that he will do whatever he can to keep us. Neville was wary of you from the beginning, which means that his family are Light wizards.” He didn’t need the nod of agreement that Draco released to know that he had been right.

           “Despite this, he _wants_ our friendship. His loyalty will far out match his fear, which means he is a Hufflepuff. Just one that will choose to be a Slytherin instead.”

            Draco let out a low whistle. “In a way, that’s also very Slytherin of him, if you are right.”

            “When am I wrong?”

            That had Draco rolling his eyes. “You know, you aren’t as cute as you would like me to believe.”

            “Perhaps.” His tone was slightly patronizing as he smirked at Draco. “But maybe that will one-day change.”

            “SLYTHERIN!”

            “If you say I told you so, I will kill you.” Draco warned but there was humor in his tone.

            There was a stunned silence that followed the hat’s declaration, which had Harry quite intrigued. It would seem that most people like to assume things without ever having the full information. Which let him know that his own sorting would raise some brows.

            They watched Neville walk towards the Slytherin table with shaking shoulders. It would seem that his confidence had faded. The other students of the same house were surprised but not unwelcome. Harry watched as several older students shook Neville’s hand and nodded politely at him. Which calmed the other boy immensely. At least enough that when Neville looked at him, there was a small but pleased smile on his face.

            Neither one of them were paying much attention when ‘MacDougal, Morag’ was sorted into Ravenclaw. Nor when ‘Macmillan, Ernest’ was placed in Hufflepuff. Their eyes were still on Neville.

            “We did good.” Draco whispered proudly.

            “I like that you took half the credit. I did most of the work.” His grumbling had Draco letting out a light laugh.

            _“Malfoy, Draco!”_

Draco rubbed his hands together and shot a wink towards Harry. “Showtime.”

            Harry shoved Draco forward with an eyeroll as he focused on the way the blonde swaggered forward with all the confidence in the world.

            He wasn’t worried nor concerned. Harry knew that Draco would get into Slytherin. Not just because he was nearly perfect for the house, but because he knew that the blonde _wanted_ to be in Slytherin. Which to him, felt like it made all the difference. If the hat was really placing them on personalities and traits, then the influence of the person’s wants would _have_ to be taken into consideration. It didn’t make sense otherwise.

            The hat had been on Draco’s head for seconds when he was placed in Slytherin. Which was unfair, because he just _knew_ that his would take longer. Whether it was a hunch or his own uneasiness at the inanimate-but-not object being his deciding factor in the first place.

            Harry watched Draco sit next to Neville and whisper something to him that had Neville relaxing. He had always known the blonde _could_ be nice.

            _“Nott, Theodore!”_

When Draco looked up and their eyes locked, he could see that the blonde was still confident. The way a pale brow lifted challengingly, had Harry smirking widely. Well, alright then.

            “SLYTHERIN!”

            Neville waved a little at him and Harry had an odd flutter of fondness for the boy. He ignored the hat when it announced that ‘Parkinson, Pansy’ was placed into Slytherin. That hadn’t been a surprise. His mind was still focused on his new friend. Neville was certainly different and it had him wondering how long it would take for the potential he knew was there, to come out.

            _“Patil, Padma_.”

            It was becoming tedious to wait up here and be sorted. Especially now that Draco had left. He just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with.

            “RAVENCLAW!”     

            Harry looked over when the same surname was announced. He noted that it was a twin. Which had him curiously wondering if ‘Patil, Parvati’, would be placed in the same house.

            “GRYFFINDOR!”

            He hummed in thought. He supposed that did make sense in a way. Twins were different people after all. Harry looked around until he noticed Fred and George from the train. They were both in Gryffindor. Which also didn’t surprise him. Those two seemed like the type to do everything together.

            _“Potter, Harry!”_

A deafening silence that was slightly ominous filled the room. Harry sighed heavily when he made his way towards the stool, glaring at the hat that would decide his placement.

            Whispers broke out the moment he took a foot forward. Which was completely annoying and had him wishing people could mind their own business.

            “ _The_ Harry Potter?”

            “Did she say _Potter_?”

            “Wasn’t he talking to Malfoy?”

            “What house do you think he will be placed in?”

            With one last disdainful look at the hat, Harry sat down and placed it on his head.

            _“Hmm.”_ A voice whispered in his ear and his mind. It had Harry’s eyes narrowing in suspicion, already not liking this. Allowing _anyone_ or anything access into his mind without his permission was a firm negative in his eyes.

            _“Difficult. Very difficult.”_

            That much was obvious. The statement had Harry sighing impatiently. He imagined any student would be difficult to place.

            _“Plenty of courage, I see.”_ Harry furrowed his brows. He supposed that could be true. It would have taken a bit of courage to leave the Dursleys but he figured that was more strategic than courageous. _“Stubborn too.”_

Was that a reprimand? Harry wasn’t sure. It seemed to be due to his refusal to see it as courageous. Huh. Who knew the hat would hold sass?

            _“Not a bad mind.”_ Well, now he was offended. Not a bad mind? Harry wasn’t one to be vain but he knew that he was well above average when it came to studying. He _had_ to be, to be able to survive at the Dursleys. Especially when he decided to be _somebody_.

            _“There’s talent, oh my goodness, yes- and a thirst to prove yourself.”_ This wasn’t a surprise to Harry either. He knew that he held a thirst to prove himself, it was part of what drove him. After being told for so long that he wouldn’t amount to anything, he _needed_ to prove them wrong. Needed to show the world what he could accomplish.

            _“Where shall I put you?”_

Harry hummed as his mind already filled with where he wanted to go.

            _“Slytherin, eh?”_ There was a contemplative pause. “ _You could be great; the proof is right here in your head. Slytherin would help you on the path to greatness, that much is true.”_

Another pause had Harry’s brows pinching.

            _“Hufflepuff could help you on the path to peace.”_ Harry snorted so loudly that he almost broke out into actual laughter. _“It’s all here in your heart.”_

Peace. That was not something he was interested in at the moment. What other people did with their life was one thing but he himself wasn’t going to devote his own for peace.

            _“Ravenclaw can help you on the path to success.”_ Tempting. Ravenclaw _was_ the house that would’ve been his second choice. But he could easily be successful inside of Slytherin. Of that, he was sure. _“It’s all here inside your will.”_

 _“Gryffindor could help you on the path to the righteous.”_ Harry really did laugh at that. This was _not_ something he saw himself as. Being morally sound or justifiable wasn’t a bad thing, it just wasn’t who he was.

            It was painfully clear where he should be placed.

            _“Well, if you’re sure—better be SLYTHERIN!”_

            The last word was shouted to the rest of the room and Harry was thankful to be able to take off the stupid hat.

            There was a nearly stunned silence that had Harry arching a brow as he hopped off the stool and made his way towards the Slytherin table. In a delayed reaction, halfway towards the table, did the room explode into a mixture of whispers and blatant yelling. The cheers and clapping only came from his fellow housemates.

            “ _Potter_ is a Slytherin?”

            “He was with Malfoy.”

            “Are they friends?”

            “Do you think the hat made a mistake?”

            Harry rolled his eyes as he made Draco move over enough till he was between Neville and the blonde.

            “Congratulations, Harry.” Neville whispered with feeling.

            “Thanks, Neville.” He allowed a small smile to slip through, rather grateful that he had seen what Neville could be. He really couldn’t wait to see the boy flourish.

            “ _You’re_ Harry Potter?” A self-entitled voice spoke up, drawing Harry’s attention to an older boy with black hair and a harsh expression.

            Harry ignored McGonagall when she called out the next person and ‘Thomas, Dean’ was sorted into Gryffindor, in favor of observing the other boy.

            The teenager was holding himself in a manner that suggested he was believing himself to be better than he actually was. Harry’s guess, was that there was a reason for this. Either he was recently placed in charge of something or he had recently come into money. Something was making a false confidence in the boy’s stance. His robes were decent but not the best Harry has seen. This showed that he was probably moderately wealthy but not to what most of his peers were.

            His eyes were a shade quite close to Neville’s but instead of warmth, they were cold and hard. By the wide space between the teenager and the other students on either side of him, Harry would surmise that he didn’t have close friends. A nearly permanent sneer was on the other boy’s face and it wasn’t as off putting as the stranger assumed it would be. He could see that the boy was becoming increasingly uncomfortable the longer Harry said nothing.

            “Obviously.” Harry drawled, arching a brow. “Unless your tone was suggesting that I am somehow lacking? Either way, you know of me and I couldn’t even fathom who you might be.”

            A few snickers could be heard as the guy clenched his fist angrily.

            “Marcus Flint.” The boy ground out, eyes narrowing and teeth grinding.

            _“Turpin, Lisa!”_

            Harry shrugged, as if to suggest that he wasn’t important. When it looked like Flint might get up towards him, someone else put a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

            “Knock it off before you get points taken away. Term hasn’t even started yet.”

            “I take it back.” Draco whispered in amusement. “You taking action, is now my new favorite thing.”

            Harry snorted as he looked to his friend. “It’s cute that you think you are the only one who can be mean.”

            “RAVENCLAW!”

            The dramatic sniffle the blonde released had Harry quashing down a smile. “I never said I was the _only_ mean one out of the two of us. I just do it better, that’s all.”

            “Is that so?” A lone brow arched as Harry debated whether he should take Draco’s bait or not.

            “How long have you two known each other?” A girl with light brown hair and red streaks asked in interest. “You make an odd duo.”

            _“Weasley, Ronald!”_

The surname caught Harry’s attention and he turned his eyes towards the stool, letting Draco take over the conversation.

            “A determined length that is none of your business.” Draco stared at her pointedly, not offering up a single thing.

            Harry’s eyesight wasn’t the best, so there wasn’t a lot that he could tell from the distance but what he could spot about the younger Weasley, was similar to the boy’s brothers. Same state of robes and same looks aesthetically on the surface. There was a noticeable difference, however. Where the Weasley twins held confidence, this boy did not. The stance showed someone who was nervous and lost. Which wasn’t the norm of a typical wizard child. He would have to wait until he had a conversation with the boy before he could actually form an opinion.

            “I see.” The girl wasn’t disappointed but she didn’t seem exactly happy about being shot down either.

            “GRYFFINDOR!”

            “We are a trio.” Neville’s quiet voice piped up, wavering between brave and timid.

            “That’s right.” Harry agreed, absentmindedly patting Neville’s shoulder once as he kept his eyes on the redhead. “A merry band of bumbling misfits. But at least there are three of us.”

            “Speak for yourself.” Draco drawled with his nose scrunched up. “Misfit? Definitely. Bumbling? No.”

            _“Zabini, Blaise!”_

“I don’t think I am a misfit.” Neville’s voice was a mixture of being proud of this and also unsure if that was a good thing.

            “Don’t worry.” Harry soothed. “Stick around Draco for much longer and you’ll reach that status pretty soon.” He tore his gaze away from the happy family reunion of redheads at the Gryffindor table to smirk at the glare Draco was sending him.

            “I will have you know that you are just as much as a deviant as I am.”

            Harry rested his chin in his palm as he turned slightly till he could peer at Draco in amusement. “Probably a better deviant.”

            “SLYTHERIN!”

            “Again, your personality is missing humble in large quantities.”

            “I get that from you.” Harry teased with a smile.

            A clearing of a throat had them both looking over to see Pansy and Blaise staring at them curiously.

            Before either of them could ask what they wanted, the room grew quiet as Dumbledore stood up and made his way towards a podium.

            Harry narrowed his eyes as he took in the appearance of the Headmaster. He had heard quite a biased opinion from Lucius about the man but he was curious about the other sides to the old man as well.

            Again, the distance was forming a problem but it was more than that. Something was quite _off_ about the man. As if he was aware of himself in ways that most weren’t, and bypassed this by projecting multiple things. Because Harry was getting contradictory things all over the place.

            The headmaster’s stance held a lot of confidence. Not an overt amount of someone projecting a false image but also not enough of someone of the man’s stature. It was as if his confidence was average at best. Which was confusing, considering the man’s accomplishments. So confusing that it took Harry a moment to realize that it was intentional, just for show. Dumbledore’s robes were clearly special ordered, for they weren’t something Harry had ever seen during all the fittings Narcissa had him going to. This was just as confusing as the rest of him, because while the material seemed to be expensive, the designs weren’t.

            Dumbledore’s eyes were a bright sparkling blue but as the man looked around the room, they narrowed in on certain students. Which showed either favoritism to some or just judgmental to others. There also seemed to be a lack of attention toward the Slytherin table and Harry wasn’t sure if that was intentional or not. Perhaps strategic?

            Complex. That was the only word that Harry could even almost place the man in. The more he stared, the more things weren’t making sense. It seemed as if the headmaster was aware that his appearance was different and thrived on it. This certainly was strategic, because an enemy wouldn’t know what to expect. Harry had to wonder if the man’s dueling style was the same. Unpredictable, contradictory and deceiving.

            It would take _several_ attempts and probably many headaches later to even scratch the surface. Which equally frustrated and excited Harry at the same time.

            “Welcome to a new year Hogwarts!” He smiled at everyone in general. “Before we begin our meal, I would like to say a few words.” There was a pause that probably was supposed to be suspenseful but Harry thought it was just weird.

            “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!” Harry’s brows rose incredulously as he shared a look with Draco, unsure if he had just heard that correctly. “Thank you!”

            As the man sat down to a round of applause, Harry shook his head rapidly. “What kind of hogwash was that?”

            Several older students laughed. “That is his usual mad self.”

            Huh. Harry wasn’t sure he could stomach too much more of that.

            “Mad is too tame.” Draco complained. “He is absolutely barking. I suppose my father was right.” There was a tad bit of reluctance in the last sentence and Harry knew that the blonde had been hoping to prove his father wrong about a lot of things.

            “How is your father?” The girl with red streaks in her hair asked curiously. “My mother told me that he was interested in a new law at the Ministry.”

            Draco eyed her steadily. “My father is the same as usual. I could care less what laws he is interested in.” His tone was hard and held warning to it. The message was clear, he didn’t want to talk about his father nor did he want to be compared to the man either.

            Harry watched the students that were in hearing distance at their table glance at Draco calculatingly. As if measuring his worth just from the simple statement. It would seem that being in Slytherin would involve internal politics. Great. Just great.

            The appearance of food had Harry tuning out their conversation happily, food meant that the night was coming to a close. He was quite keen to sleep and allow himself the proper time to prepare for tomorrow’s lessons.

            Harry took a few bites of a few dishes as he looked around the table in interest. A part of him was just itching to observe his housemates. He made a noise of interest at the site of a ghost halfway down the table. This was a ghost of people’s nightmares. Not that Harry was particularly frightened. Quite the opposite.

            The ghost had a gaunt face and eyes that seemed blank but Harry knew this to be false. There was a knowledgeable way those eyes scanned people. As if taking in things and cataloguing them. The robes were covered in silver blood, which was the most glaring attraction when glancing over. Harry had a hunch that the blood was there on purpose. His guess would be a distraction but it could be a number of things. Reasons that were unknown. There was a small amount of curiosity as to how the man had died.

            Thinking of ghosts had him remembering that Narcissa had warned him that their History of Magic Professor is a ghost. Harry scanned the head table but didn’t see a ghost sitting up there, which he supposed made some sense.

            As his eyes scanned the teachers, noticing that most of them were paired into conversations. McGonagall was talking to Dumbledore, that was a conversation that would interest him. Hagrid was talking to someone that had to be either part Goblin or part Dwarf.

            An odd purple turban drew his attention towards two Professors who were talking somewhat… stiltedly. It wasn’t the turban itself that made it odd, it was the way the man carried it. As if he wasn’t used to having one. Which was a little… different to Harry.

            At the moment, he wasn’t wanting to observe the teachers individually. He was more interested in the fact that they clearly didn’t want to talk to each other. Perhaps, this was the first time they had come in contact? Harry supposed that would show a certain level of awkwardness, depending on the person’s social skills.

            …But this didn’t appear to be that. The whole thing was becoming peculiar.

            Harry narrowed his eyes in consideration as he looked to the man with the turban. He was younger than most of the other teachers, probably mid-twenties, but there was something definitely _off_ about him. The way he carried himself was timid and nervous. For a moment, Harry thought he had appeared to resemble the way Neville had earlier. Only, whereas Neville was used to that stance, this man was not. There was a straining of muscles as the man shrunk in on himself, this showed that this was new. He supposed that it could be a new development, but Harry didn’t think so.        

            Which begs the question, why was he doing it? Part of Harry wished that he could see the man’s eyes. He would be able to see more of the man and gain a better insight.

            With a disappointed sigh, he looked to the other man.

            It was definitely night and day. This man, was the complete opposite. Not just in appearance, although that was noteworthy as well. The teacher had black hair that was shining in a way that had Harry wondering what was wrong with it. First thought was that it might be greasy but that would have to be an extremely bad case to be able to spot that from over here. His best guess was that it was some kind of hair product. The man’s skin was a little pallid and he again wished that he could see into his eyes.

            The man’s stance was far from timid. He held himself with a confidence that most didn’t have. He was sure of himself in a way that intrigued Harry immediately. The way he was gesturing with his hands, firmly and surely, showed that it was conversation that he was interested in. Some people gesture subconsciously and can sometimes be when they are uncomfortable, angry or animated. Sometimes, it’s done to emphasize a point. Harry’s best guess was that the man was a mixture of a few.

            “Draco.” Harry began, looking towards his friend, who was staring at him in amusement. He chose to ignore the fact that the blonde had been staring at him while he had been staring at others. “Do you know who those two are?”

            Draco snapped his gaze to where Harry had gestured with his head. “That one is my godfather. Severus Snape. He teaches potions.”

            That had Harry humming in thought. Lucius and Draco had talked quite a bit about Snape. They both seemed to hold him in high regard. Things were beginning to make sense. The confidence and the way he held himself.

            “He’s our head of house.” It wasn’t a question but Draco nodded in agreement anyways. Harry wondered how this would go. Lucius had warned him that there might be some lackluster emotions between the two of them, due to discord between Snape and his parents. Which didn’t make sense to Harry. What did his parents have to do with who he was as a person? Why would Snape extend his dislike onto him? Wasn’t that a bit… childish? Well, he would have to wait to find out if that was true or if the man would just be reasonable.

            “Do you know the other one?”

            Draco shrugged his shoulders. “My guess is Quirrell. My father heard that from Fudge.” This was accompanied by an eyeroll. “He would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

            They both shared another look, neither one of them liking the way the school had only devoted to teaching defense.

            “I know Snape can be a little intimidating but Quirrell seems to be terribly frightened.” Draco’s tone was highly amused.

            Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t think it has anything to do with Snape.” He paused, looking at the table for a moment. “I can’t quite explain it but I feel like he is like that a lot.”

            He could feel Draco’s eyes on him and he peered curiously at the other boy. “You see something else, don’t you?”

            The petulant tone had Harry smirking. “I’ll tell you when I figure it out.” He knew that would make Draco annoyed and his smirk grew at the frustrated sigh the boy released.

            Harry looked next to him, wondering why Neville hadn’t spoken to them. He arched a brow when he noticed the boy was in an animated discussion with an older student on the importance of salt water versus fresh water on certain magical plants.

            “He’s different.” Draco whispered in a tone that was torn between being fond and frustrated. Harry knew exactly what the blonde was feeling. Neville was typically someone that they wouldn’t have gotten to know but there was _something_ about him that made them want to take him in.

            Neville must have felt them staring, he continued to talk to the student but paused enough to smile warmly at them before diving right back in.

            Harry glanced up at the High Table, when he felt eyes on him. The moment he looked up and noticed that he was on the receiving end of two gazes, a sharp pain shot across his scar.

            The pain was intense, scorching and nearly debilitating. Harry had to force himself not to show an outward reaction. The only thing he allowed himself was a clenching of his fists underneath the table. As quickly as it had come, it had left.

            Harry released a shaky breath as he forced himself to keep looking. There was no doubt in his mind that it wasn’t coincidence. He had never had his scar hurt like this before, that had to mean something. Only question, was why and who was the cause?

            He wasn’t sure which one to look to first so he allowed his instinct to guide him. Quirrell’s eyes were sharper than Harry thought they would be. The man’s eyes were narrowed curiously, suspiciously and in a way that Harry couldn’t quite place. The look was definitely something that warred with the man’s timid stance. His eyes didn’t match what the Professor was aiming to project. Was there some kind of farce going on? Or was this truly how the man was? It was utterly frustrating having someone give off things that made no sense. This typically didn’t happen. Which made it twice already today that he has come across someone that would take multiple tries to even hope to understand them.

            Harry tore his gaze away from Quirrell and arched a brow at the intense dislike in Snape’s eyes. Well, there went all thoughts of the man being reasonable. It was more than just a simple discord, as Lucius had tried to pass it off as. Because this was hatred. Something had happened for the man to hold _this_ much loathing. As much as Harry was curious as to the story behind it, he also didn’t care. He wasn’t his parents, nor was he responsible for whatever had happened. The prequel didn’t matter, what happened _now_ , did.

            Being on the receiving end of hate wasn’t new to Harry. He had seen quite a few looks from his Uncle over the years. There was a certain level of indifference that was required to be able to face hatred head on. Not even a smidgen of care filled him at being disliked. It would be a waste to worry or be upset over Snape. If the man was to change his mind later on, well, that would be a different story.

            Despite not liking the man’s choice in behavior, Harry was looking forward to seeing the man in action. Potions would definitely be an experience.

            Harry let out a small smirk and watched the way a confused expression flittered across the man’s face before Snape looked away and began another conversation with Quirrell.

            “Well that was enlightening.” Draco mumbled a little in confusion.

            “Yes, it certainly was.” Harry whispered meeting Draco’s knowing gaze.

            “What was enlightening?” Neville wondered, interrupting their stares. “I hold one conversation and miss all the good stuff.”

            Draco let out a chuckle, leaning forward to peer at Neville in bemusement. “We will catch you up later.” He shot a pointed look at the people who were shamelessly eavesdropping.

            A silence that once again filled the room had them all looking towards the podium as Dumbledore began talking.

            “Ahem—I have a few start of term notices to give you all before we retire for the evening.” He made sure to look at each table in turn before continuing.

            “First years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils.” There was a pause as Dumbledore looked towards the Gryffindor table. “And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.”

            Harry hummed in thought. A few books mentioned the number of dangerous Magical Creatures that were inside the Forbidden Forest but they also mentioned rare ingredients and animals that were worth trekking into the forest for as well. Why make the entire forest forbidden?

            “Mr. Filch, the caretaker has asked me to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

            Harry almost tuned him out when he began speaking of Quidditch trials. That wasn’t interesting to him at the moment. First years weren’t even allowed on the team.

            “And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

            _That_ drew Harry’s attention. He noticed that the older students were very confused. This was something that hadn’t happened here before. The vague warning did not sit well with Harry. If a painful death really did lurk in the third-floor corridor, then not explaining what was the cause would cause curious people to go looking. If their lives were in danger, then it should be stated up front. Giving this horrible explanation was insulting.

            Whispers broke out amongst the tables as students tried to figure out what could be on the third-floor.

            “Peculiar.” Draco whispered, meeting Harry’s eyes with suspicion on them.

            “What do you think it is?” There was a slight fear to Neville’s voice and it had Harry patting his shoulder once more.

            “It’s fine Neville. Nothing to worry about.”

            His assurance seemed to work on him but Harry shot Draco a telling look, both doubting the statement entirely.

            The headmaster cleared his throat and asked everyone to sing the school song. Which neither Harry, Draco or Neville participated in.

            “Ah! Music!” Dumbledore wiped his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here. And now, bedtime. Off you go.”

            A mass of students sprang out of their seats and all rushed towards the entrance. Chattering crowds and an increase in volume had Harry wincing internally.

            “First years, you little shits, over here.”

            Harry blinked rapidly at the prefect who said that. He heard Draco and Neville snort.

            “Oi! Felix, you can’t call them that.” A girl with a prefect’s badge on her chest reprimanded, folding her arms across her chest.

            As the two prefects bickered, Harry could tell that the two were closer than just typical friends.

            “Gemma, you can’t reprimand me for speaking the truth.” The boy had a bright smile and eyes filled with joy. This wasn’t someone he has yet to see in Slytherin. He could tell that his house was typically quieter and more internal than Felix.

            Felix was restless and he was bouncing on the soles of his feet. Harry could tell that he was someone who couldn’t sit still and had endless amounts of energy. His clothes weren’t tidy but they were expensive. The boy was of money but didn’t care, that much was obvious by his disheveled appearance. The only calm part to him was his light brown hair that laid neatly in place. With the wild energy surrounding the boy, Harry honestly had no idea what to make of him.

            He looked to the other prefect, who seemed to be fighting her own amusement. Gemma was definitely the more reserved between the two of them. She held herself up to her full height and was a tad rigid. Her robes were neatly in place and her badge seemed to be aligned to be perfectly center and in a specific spot. It was clear the girl liked control, which had to be hard working with Felix. Interestingly enough, the only part of her that had no control was her hair. Her wildly curly strawberry blonde hair was free flowing and all over the place.

            Despite how different they were, he was beginning to see some similarities the longer he stood there.

            “Ignore him.” Gemma turned to them and tried to smile but it came out forced, as if she wasn’t one to really ever smile. “My name is Gemma Farley. This moron is Felix Brunt.” A smirk quirked at the corners of her lips when Felix grumbled.

            “We are your prefects, get used to following our orders and do try to ignore the other prefects in different houses.” Felix interrupted, grinning at Gemma’s annoyed expression.

            “They tend to be wrong in how they assign orders to people outside of their own house.” Gemma reluctantly agreed. “Enough talking, follow me.”

            Harry was intrigued by their dynamics but chose to pay attention to where they were headed instead.

            There were a few lines of other first years making their way toward staircases and going upwards. The Slytherin common room seemed to be down in the dungeons. Which Harry was actually glad for. That meant it was a ways away from the other houses.

            They took many turns and even looked like they backtracked once before they were in a darkened hallway. It looked to be a dead end but the prefects stopped at a completely bare wall.

            “This is tomorrow’s password, _callidus_.” The wall slid away to reveal a stone door. “The password changes daily. Remember it, for if you forget, you won’t be coming inside for the night.” Felix warned seriously, which had several people standing up straighter.

           “Even if a fellow housemate were to fill you in, the wall will not reward those who don’t have what it takes to be a Slytherin inside.”

            “Where are we supposed to go if we do forget?” Pansy wondered curiously.

            Gemma pointed behind her. “There is an empty classroom with a few dusty cots. That will be your home for the night until the password is changed. I guarantee at least a few of you will face this fate until you have trained your memory to work harder.”

            There was a lesson there and Harry found himself fascinated by it. The password changing daily would take some getting used to but he knew it wouldn’t be difficult. He looked to Neville’s worried face and resigned himself to the fate of making sure to instill them into the other boy.

            Once inside, Harry took in the atmosphere of the Slytherin common room. It was a low underground room with jagged stone walls covered in portraits and parchment that he couldn’t read from a distance. There were black lanterns that hung from chains all around the room, some on the wall and some just hanging from the ceiling. The light emitting from the lanterns was a greenish glow that accented the black décor of the furniture. There were black high back chairs in front of the roaring fire, black couches and a few love seats spread around the extensive space.

            Harry noted that a few older students were sitting in front of the fire. The mantelpiece was elaborately carved with detail that Harry admired. There were several different scenes depicted and he was curious as to what they were. He could make out snakes, people, Hogwarts and even wizards screaming. Whatever was on the mantelpiece was a story in of itself.

            Neville nudged Harry in the rib once and gestured towards the windows on the other side of the room.

            Even from his distance, Harry could tell that the windows were thick. They gave off a dark murky color and it took a moment before he realized that they were underneath the Black Lake. Animals swam by rapidly and Harry found himself reluctantly entranced.

            “Up the staircase you will find that the right is for the boys and the left is for the girls. Each door you pass in your designated area will be specific to a certain year.” Felix was miming the instructions as Gemma explained things, who was pointedly ignoring him.

            “Deciding who sleeps where is something we care nothing about. Decide that on your own.” Felix added firmly.

            “Tomorrow morning at 5 o’clock sharp, there will be a house meeting.” A few grumbled complaints about the lack of sleep could be heard but Gemma shot them a glare before continuing.

            “This is mandatory and lateness will result in Professor Snape giving out detentions. Word of advice, don’t be late.”

            Felix nodded his agreement. “He can be pretty… nasty when it comes to handing out detentions.”

            Gemma cleared her throat. “Snape handles the first meeting of the year. After that, the meetings will be handled internally and typically will be once a week. That will be determined by whoever Snape makes commander this year.”

            A few people had no idea what she was talking about. Gemma waved her hand in the air, dismissing all questions.

            “All of this will be addressed tomorrow.” Her tone booked no argument. “I suggest you spend your time wisely and get some sleep.”

            It was a dismissal, the prefects stood to the side and gestured for them to make their way upstairs.

            When Draco opened the door designated for them, he let out a low whistle. “It would seem that they enlarged our dorm to fit us all inside.

            Harry definitely had to agree. There was something unnatural about seven beds being able to fit in a room that looked like housing five was a bit of a stretch.

            “If any of us actually fight over which bed is which, I will be sorely disappointed.” Harry spoke up loud enough for everyone to hear him.

            He made his way to the far side of the room where he noticed his suitcase had been placed. “It would seem that this bed is mine.”

            Draco walked towards the bed next to Harry and picked up a suitcase that wasn’t his and tossed it to the side. His suitcase was actually on a different bed but he placed his down by Harry’s anyways. “Looks like it’s the same for me.”

            Harry let out a loud laugh as he watched a disgruntled Blaise pick up the suitcase that had been discarded.

            “You didn’t have to throw it.” Blaise complained giving Draco a dark glare before choosing a bed the furthest from them.

            Neville walked to the bed next to Draco but before could do anything, another boy stepped up and grabbed the suitcase that was there.

            “I’ll just move it.” The boy said quickly, moving his suitcase near Blaise, obviously of the opinion that Neville would have thrown it too.

            Harry could hear the movement of everyone else as they settled in for the night. A few whispered conversations could almost be detected but he tried to tune them out.

            He looked over and caught Draco’s eye, who was laying on his side facing Harry.

            “I’m glad we are here together.” The whisper was low, almost too low to have been heard.

            “Me too.” Harry allowed a small smile to slip through and watched Draco do the same.

            “I’m here too, guys.” Neville complained.

            Harry and Draco let out a laugh, smiles growing. “We love you, Neville.” They both said in unison.

            “I’m sure you do.” The sarcastic reply was said with a clearly heard smile.

            “Shut up and go to bed.” Blaise reprimanded.

            “Someone is still grumpy.” Draco stage whispered.

            “Draco, I swear I will curse you.” The reply had Draco smirking.

            “I thought you wanted to go to bed. Be quiet.”

            Blaise sighed heavily. “I should’ve been placed in Ravenclaw.”

            Despite the statement, Harry was interested in the fact that Blaise had been placed in Slytherin. Just like Neville, there was potential in the other boy. Blaise didn’t need a nudge or a hand to guide him but there definitely was potential.

           Harry was interested in getting to know his other housemates and seeing who else would surprise him… and perhaps getting to know his head of house as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. I actually thought long and hard about a few things in this chapter. Neville being in Slytherin is one of those things. At first I was having a difficult time picturing him as a Slytherin. I see the Gryffindor aspects to him and the Hufflepuff aspects. But it wasn't until I took a step back and realized that the context matters. If I set it up correctly, it wouldn't be hard to see him as a Slytherin. Especially if he had the right guiding. It will take a lot more than this chapter but I do plan on having Neville go through several learning experiences. He will still be the same Neville that he used to be, just a little different. I can't ever make him like Harry or Draco, nor would I want him to be. 
> 
> Now, just because Ron and Hermione aren't apart of their group does not mean I am going to bash either of them. I know that might have looked like it with Hermione earlier in the chapter but that wasn't it. She is bossy and would definitely reprimand others. Just who she is. They will be brought up multiple times but they aren't going to be a part of this new trio. 
> 
> The sorting was a tad bit long but I did want to include those who were mentioned. I don't like introducing one of those who were sorted later on and just casually imply that Harry had no idea who they were. Because that doesn't make sense. They are first years and will be mentioned at some point. 
> 
> There is something about Ravenclaw Hermione that I rather like. I could have placed her in Gryffindor but I didn't want to. Lol. That's really all that boils down to. 
> 
> All of the observations Harry made in this chapter are important. Some might have seemed insignificant but they aren't. 
> 
> The Slytherin password Callidus is Latin for cunning. 
> 
> I am pretty tired and can't think of much else to add to the notes. If you have any questions or comments, let me know! I will be responding to last chapter's comments when I wake up in the morning! I love you all and hopefully you enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xx-thedarklord-xx)


	6. Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT! There are some odd paragraphs that got cut out when pasting over my work. This has been updated. Thank you Ren for letting me know! <3 
> 
> So... I am alive! So, I never intended to have a two-month gap. God, I absolutely hate that. I have devised a new way to go about my writing. It's counteracting my somewhat recent depression diagnosis. Kind of. I am still navigating this all and trying to find the best way to be me if that makes sense. So far, I think it is working. I was able to shell out the majority of this out in the past few days. I can't exactly give a time frame for the next update, but it won't be as long. That I can promise you all! 
> 
> This chapter was beta'd by my beautiful and wonderful friend @staganddragon. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

            Perspective is a notion that can easily be skewed. People, in general, are quick to assume and easily shielded to the true layers of honesty, whether this is specific to a single person or just a deeply rooted concept in society.

            What one person sees can be entirely different from their immediate neighbor. Having a different perspective on something isn’t wrong. One can learn different viewpoints and ideas, as long as they are willing to see the merit in opposite opinions.

            A blinding misconception or false perception without insight can lead to disastrous consequences. Even personal experiences can be misleading. Just because something happens a certain way does not mean that the opposite can never happen. 

            Harry’s own perspective on family was a personal experience, but not a reality to _all_ families. His perspective on the wizarding world was based on limited personal experience and only the things he had read or heard. His insight wasn’t as in-depth as other wizarding children might have been.

            History itself tends to be taken as factual and it is never noted that perspective matters. When something is left out of history books or even retellings, that isn’t an entirely factual account. That isn’t a full perspective but rather an incomplete story.

            An incomplete story where the narrator has no imposing insights. One where rumors, whispers, and falsities can be taken as certitude.

            When taking a perspective and turning it into an undisputed fact, there should always be strict guidelines to follow. Personal opinions should not dictate an absolute truth. An unbiased insight can sometimes hold more weight than a passionate party.

            The viewpoint on Dark Wizards was a perspective that Harry didn’t understand. He liked to look at the complete picture, but it was hard when the majority of the Wizarding world refused to do the same. The history books were skewed and written in ‘facts’ that weren’t entirely credible. Blatant opinions were printed as truth when it was clear that it was anything but.

            It was entirely frustrating to be in a society that didn’t accept other perspectives but actively agreed on insights that weren’t complete or true.

            Perhaps instead of arguing perspectives and choosing to grumble over the injustice, wizards should show their own perspective in a way that changes the minds of others.

            Maybe a different approach would help the minds of the impressionable. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

            “This is obscenely early,” Theodore whispered, voice carrying around to the rest of the room. “My mind hasn’t woken up yet.”

            Harry had to agree that it was early. The time was close to five, but he knew that Snape would be entering at any moment.

            It had taken three attempts to wake up Neville and Harry wasn’t confident that his friend was awake mentally, either. He looked to the left of him and sighed heavily at the sight of his friend resting his head on the nearest table, eyes closed and mouth hanging open.

            “What are we going to do with him?” Harry asked Draco, eyes still locked on Neville’s stance.

            When there was no answer, he looked around hoping to find Draco. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose when he spotted his friend next to him, head resting back against the wall, eyes closed as well.

            “I am not asleep.” Draco contradicted. “However, I wish I was.”

            Before Harry could respond, the sound of the common room door opening had Neville’s head snapping up. Perhaps his friend wasn’t as asleep as he had originally thought?

            Harry narrowed his eyes as he took in Snape’s appearance. His observations and assumptions of yesterday still held merit. The confidence he had surmised from across the Great Hall was a little lackluster compared to the assertive and composed person before him. The man was stiff in a way that showed how commanding he could be. This was someone that one shouldn’t cross. Not just solely on the basis of being a teacher, but because of the implications of what could happen if someone were to disrespect him.

            The Potion Master’s wand wasn’t in his hands, but rather prominently showcased in a holster on his hip. This was intriguing to Harry. He had not seen this setup on other wizards. It would normally be covered by robes, but for some reason, the way Snape was standing showed just a small glimpse. This wasn’t an accident. Which implied that the man wanted this to be seen. As if this held some kind of significance.

            Up close, Harry could make out a severe lack of emotions, which was admirable. Someone of authority _should_ be imperturbable and shown to be reliable. Harry couldn’t actively get behind someone who was quick to rise to emotions.

            He watched the man’s eyes travel the room, taking in key observations or even stopping on a few people. This was reassuring in many ways. Harry had been worried after seeing the Headmaster and his odd peculiar traits. He had thought perhaps some of the other teachers would be of the same pattern. 

            There was a certain dispassionate gleam to their Head of House’s eyes. As if they didn’t fully interest him.

            “I would like to address the things some may have heard about our house.” Harry caught sight of a few older students sighing, which showed that this was a yearly speech. “Slytherin house is known for being cunning and ambitious. We are known for the house founded by Salazar Slytherin. History will tell you that he prided those of pureblood ancestry and disregarded those of the opposite. They will tell you that he disregarded the merit of all others that were not of his house or his blood status. They will tell you that because a hat placed us as Slytherin that we are nefarious or have ill intentions.”

            Harry’s spine straightened minutely when their eyes locked for just a moment. It had been brief - barely there - but it was enough to reestablish the belief that Snape disliked him. Which was disappointing. Preconceived notions that were baseless just showed ignorance.    

            He furrowed his brows, understanding where this was coming from and not liking it one bit. He couldn’t understand the minds of those who only look at the surface and never underneath. It was rather interesting to see his Head of House address this head on. Snape may not be someone who is emotional or passionate, but there _was_ a determination in the man’s eyes, as if begging them to understand that they weren’t just that. That they weren’t just Slytherins.

            “I am here to tell you that they are _wrong_.” Snape paused, eyeing the first years. “Assumptions based on a house sorting is not only idiotic but pointless. Slytherins strive to have cunning and determination but that is not _all_ we aspire to be. One is not placed inside a house and automatically given such things. No one is born with all qualifying abilities, it is something that is learned, practiced and emulated. One should never stop at limitations. There is a certain fulfillment that exudes when trying to be better. Not better than others. But better than who you once were. Better than a year ago. Better than a month ago. Better than yesterday.”

            “Some of you might not be cunning or ambitious. Some of you might have mentalities that would be better suited for other houses. This is to be expected. No one person can be restricted to just one generalization. Which is why in the Slytherin house, you will learn to not only be the best that you can be while in this house, but the best you can be while embodying other traits as well. It is my job to mold the minds of those I am responsible for. Your actions will reflect my teachings. So, therefore, the priority of what you learn, will be taken seriously by me.”

            As far as uplifting speeches Harry has heard, this would be one that intrigued him the most. It was strange to find comfort in a dispassionate tone but justifiable dialogue. It was clear that this was something Snape strongly believed in.

            “I care not who your family is, where you are from or even what your blood status is. I do not care what separates us or how different we may be. You are all Slytherins and that is where the foundation of support will arise. In this house, you will not find typical friends. You will not find lasting mementos to carry you through happy memories when older. In this house, you will find understanding, kinship and what it means to bear intolerance. The Slytherin house has never been one shrouded in good light. We have never been one to be uttered in good taste. There is always truth to some lies. Always a meaning behind what others say. I will not lie and say that the Slytherin house is any semblance of honest moral intentions. But no house is. No one house is better than others. No one classification of a wizard is better.” There was a slight furrowing to his brows, that showed the importance of his words. As if Snape was begging them to listen to him, but not doing so with open actions.

            Harry tilted his head to the side, wondering if this was something Snape learned in life or just believed strongly. It was interesting because it varied with some of Lucius’ beliefs. He was finding himself horribly fascinated by his Head of House.

            “When it is believed by a majority that we will never be anything but the negative shadows of life, morale tends to go down. Why bother trying? Why bother being something that others can look to longer than a passing glance? Slytherins tend to be crafty in their cunning because they can’t get it by other means. We tend to be ambitious because it takes more to be taken at face value. Slytherins use _all_ methods in gaining what they desire – even those that shouldn’t be used – _because_ they have no other choice. Because working towards anything is always a longer course when the obstacles to getting there, are other people. The same people who can’t see past their own hypocrisy.”

            One look at Draco’s face and Harry knew that his friend was captivated. It was everything the blonde had been saying since they met.

            “I will not stand here and tell you one side of a story. That would make me no better than those who vilify this house. I urge you to make your own conclusions and touch upon history. True history.”

             Snape straightened his shoulders and eyed the first years closely.

            “Now that I have given you something to think about, I will tell you what I expect of you.” That had a few people snapping upwards, keeping themselves still, as if they were under inspection.

            “Quarrels with other houses are to be expected. I will not demand that no arguments happen, but do adhere to school rules. Do _not_ require me to punish any of you for something as frivolous as magic in the corridors, duels in the open, or being out of bed after hours.” Black eyes narrowed dangerously. “I promise you that _my_ detentions will make anything Filch could come up with seem like paradise.”

            The way Neville swallowed audibly made Harry sigh internally.

             “Living in close quarters in any capacity can be tedious or even bothersome. I expect that there will be people in this room that some of you won’t like. I don’t care about inner house fights. I don’t care what your neighbor did, or said to you. Under no circumstances will fights be brought into this common room or your dorms. This is a haven for every single one of you. A place to go where understanding and acknowledgment can happen. If a single whisper of untoward actions here, make it back to me, the next poison I test, will have your name on it.”

            Neville released a whimper, which prompted Draco to snort quietly. It unfortunately drew the attention of Snape, as well. Their head of house narrowed his eyes at Neville, eyes traveling his face. If Harry didn’t know better, he would say the man was amused.

            “School rules are posted there.” He gestured towards a spot on the wall with a long parchment tacked up “House rules are also posted. Keep track because house rules are subject to change at any given time.”

            Snape took a step forward, eyes still searching the first years.

            “This sorting has been the highest number of Slytherins in many years. I take pride in assuring that each and every one of you becomes the wizard that this house deserves. My responsibility can only go so far. Once the means have been provided, it is up to _you_ to embody them. As I mentioned earlier, this house may be known for being cunning and ambitious, but I aim for more. You will learn to take things from every house. I will not have Slytherins who are cunning but lack the nerve, daring and courage that the Gryffindor house prides themselves in. I will not have Slytherins who are ambitious but lack the creativity, wisdom and originality that the Ravenclaw house derives from. I will not have Slytherins who are resourceful but lack the dedication, tolerance and hard work that Hufflepuffs delight in. We are Slytherins, but we are so much more than that. In due time, this will be realized by you as well.”

              There was a pause as Snape took a deep breath. Harry was beginning to think that the professor was uncomfortable. Perhaps he was a man of few words?

            “The rest of the world and even the other houses will not take notice. They will not see the work you put into yourself, or even see past what they assume was already there. This is discouraging and frustrating. I know this. _But_ that is why the Slytherin house will garner bonds that last lifetimes. The people next to you know what it is like to face what you will. They bear it just as you will. The Slytherin house is a kinship. There will never come a time when any of you will be alone - regardless of family life or school responsibilities. Each one of you has an _entire_ room full of people to go to. Do not let the misguided beliefs of the blind, dictate your own inner resilience. In this house, we are one. We aren’t a handful of people shoved into one mindset. We are a collective set of unified strength. One voice may not seem like much, but when paired with a room full of others, _that_ is powerful. Even in silence, we will show the rest of the school what the Slytherin house is capable of.”

            If this were any other place, Harry would think people would clap, but interrupting Snape seemed akin to poking a dragon.  

            “I cannot be readily available at all hours of the day. However, I choose one student to be my representation while I am absent. They will be the commander. Should one of you feel that they are not capable of handling the issue, then by all means, come to me. This year I have chosen… to be unique in my line of reasoning.”

            There was a certain way a few students held their breaths that had Harry curious. Was being chosen as commander worth the hype? Did it hold power over the others?

            “This year’s position will be held by Felix.”

            There was a whispered gasp from the prefect that set the tone for the moment, as several other gasps could be heard.

            Snape held up a hand, eyes flashing angrily. “This is not up for debate. Listen to Felix as you would me. Should I feel it necessary to change commanders, then I will. Not before and certainly not because some feel differently. Now, this will be the close of the meeting until next week. See that today does not earn you a position on my wrong side.”

            Harry wasn’t surprised that the man left with a dramatic swish of his cloak. It seemed fitting in a way. His mind was processing the implications of the things that had been said, so he wasn’t too caring of the whispers being voiced.

            It wasn’t until Draco leaned his chin on Harry’s shoulder, that he actively began noticing that some people weren’t too happy with Snape’s decision.

            “ _Felix_ of all people.” Someone whispered harshly and with little positive emotion.

            “Oi. You better not be calling his blood status into question.”

            Harry arched his brows, recalling the prefect’s state of dress and attitude. Muggleborn had not been his first guess.

            “I don’t care if he’s a muggleborn, he’s a bloody idiot.” Several murmured agreements could be heard.

            “Yeah but he’s nicer than Flint.”

            “I can hear you, you know.” came Flint’s aggravated tone, and Draco and Neville snickered.

            “So can I,” Felix murmured, straightening himself up to his full height. “I may be an idiot, but I am the idiot Snape put in charge.”    

            When Harry looked over to Draco and saw the boy blinking rapidly with an uneasy look, he bit his lip in amusement. He as well wasn’t too confident in Felix’s abilities.

            “First years, stick around. The rest of you can clear off until I call a meeting.” His tone was surprisingly firm for someone who seemed so carefree.

            Felix arched a brow when a few looked ready to argue, but in the end, they all left--some grumbling darkly.

            When the teen turned to them, one hand resting on his hip and the other under his chin, Harry was positive that he had no idea what this boy was going to say. Felix seemed to be so different than what he was used to. Which wasn’t exactly a comforting notion.

            “I could bore you all to tears like Snape did earlier, but I kind of like you little shits.” The new commander paused, eyes shifting around, no doubt looking for Gemma.  When she wasn’t to be seen, he sighed in relief.

            “What I need to reinforce is that Snape was right about how the school will view you. It matters none how hard you try, believe me. I am muggleborn. Proving myself to my housemates was hard enough, but trying to do that _and_ show the rest of the school I was worth it?” He scoffed harshly. “Some people have opinions already mapped out before you even open your mouth. It’s hard changing ignorance. At some point, it’s easier to let them think whatever they please.” 

            Harry was interested to know what Felix’s viewpoint on Dark Wizards was and the Slytherin house in general. Him being a muggleborn would garner a different perspective on _everything_.

            “Now, I can tell that some of you may not hold confidence in me. But do be keen enough to know that appearances aren’t everything.”

            Each word Felix spoke made Harry wonder if Felix portrayed himself falsely on purpose. It was clear the boy was intelligent and incredibly different.

            “Listening to Snape’s speech is easier said than done. It’s nice being told that you can embody multiple houses, but actually learning that? It’s tough. This is where I come in. Being commander isn’t just ordering the people around that I dislike. That’s just a side benefit.” This was accompanied by a wink and an easy smile.

             “Not only will you have the weekly meetings to attend, but you will also have lessons with me and a few other students. These lessons are to ensure that you acclimate to your surroundings properly. I will treat every one of you with the respect that you show me. Blood status means absolutely shite to me. There will be no preferential treatment. I don’t give a flying fuck who your parents are or what they do for a living. Work hard and we will get along. Slack off and I will send you to Snape.”

            There was a small pause as Felix looked at them curiously, as if checking their reactions to his statements.

            “I am new to being a commander, but this is my second year as a prefect. I know how to work hard, and I refuse to lose. Every one of you will be the best that you can be. Or Snape can handle your leftovers. Believe me, he isn’t one to piss off.” He grinned widely, arms gesturing around the room.

            “Now, you are all dismissed. I don’t care what you do. Hopefully it’s productive but honestly, be a lazy sod for all I care.”

            The commander turned around and walked away, but not before his whispered conversation to himself could be heard. “Oh, Merlin. Me as a commander? Heaven help us all.”

            There was a silence that filled the air before Draco let out an interested hum. “He’s different.”   

            Harry turned to his friend and watched silver eyes still following their new commander. “Are you curious too then? About his insight.”

            “Absolutely.” The reply came back with a smirk.

            “Okay,” Pansy’s voice interrupted them slowly. “What is with you two? It’s as if you’re the same person.”

            Neville hummed curiously. “This is acceptable. The only explanation that makes sense.”

            Draco shoved Neville lightly before throwing an arm over Harry’s shoulder. “Jealous, Pans?”

            “Heavens, no.” She argued, shaking her head. “I replaced you with Blaise ages ago.”

            If Harry wasn’t attuned to Draco so closely, he would have fallen for the fake hurt the blonde adopted. But to him, his friend appeared to be relieved.

            “Who cares?” countered Blaise, arms crossing, and brow arching. “I’m starving. Let’s do something about that, shall we?”

            “Right,” Draco mumbled quietly. “As if your hunger is more important than my conversation.”

            Despite his words, they made their way out of the common room anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

“Look! There he is!”

“I can’t believe Potter is _here_.”

“I can’t believe he’s in Slytherin!”

            Harry rolled his eyes, not understanding their fascination with him. It was baffling to think that the wizarding world was hung up on his status as an orphan survivor. Believing in anything past that was moronic. Believing he held some powers past that of a normal person to have survived, just made no sense.

            “This is going to get old quick,” Draco mumbled under his breath, piling his plate with scrambled eggs.

            “Better Harry than us.” Piped up Neville, avoiding Harry’s narrowed eyes.

            “Good point.” A smirk formed on Draco’s lips as he looked to Neville.

            Harry pointedly ignored them in favor of looking around at the other students. Countering gossip was easier than some liked to think. If he were to ignore it, that would give them exactly what they wanted. People don’t like to be confronted, it makes them uncomfortable. He made eye contact with everyone he suspected of gossiping about him.

            It was amusing to see the way their eyes would widen; their smiles would drop or the embarrassed hues that would light up their faces. There were a few that took it as a challenge of sorts. But one flick of a brow and a slight fire to his eyes would have them averting their attention to something else.

            “How long have you and Harry been friends?” Pansy’s voice drew Harry’s attention to her. He glanced at Draco and smirked at the annoyance in his eyes. He wasn’t sure why their friendship mattered. There was a suspicion that she was asking for another reason, but he couldn’t fathom what that would be.

            “Long enough.”

            The answer didn’t suit Pansy, if her pinched expression was anything to go by. “Alright, if you want to be secretive, then that’s your prerogative.” Her tone was annoyed, and she offered little in hiding her emotions. Which would get tiring really quick. Harry didn’t have the patience to put up with that for long.

            Harry rolled his eyes, pulling out his bag to double check he had all the requirements for classes. “He wasn’t being secretive. Vague is a better descriptor. What he meant is that we have been friends long enough to know each other. Long enough to become friends. Long enough to understand each other and long enough to know how to interpret vague statements.”

            He didn’t need to look up to know that Draco was nodding his head along with his statement.

            “When do we get our schedules?” Neville blurted out uncomfortably, shifting a little in his seat. It was clear that his friend wasn’t one for confrontations.

            “What does that have to do with anything?” Pansy asked, folding her arms across her chest.

            “I don’t like fighting,” Neville whispered quietly.

            The admittance wasn’t surprising. Harry exchanged a look with Draco before he patted Neville’s shoulder.

            “Fighting is for those who allow emotions to get the best of them. You certainly won’t see either of us fighting, verbally or otherwise.” Harry explained, shooting Pansy a narrowed look, not going to allow her to bait either of them. He wasn’t entirely sure why she cared so much about them, but it was going to stop here.

            “Unless, of course, we are pushed, and the matter is out of our hands.” Draco amended, leaning his chin on his palm. “But those are dire circumstances, and something tells me that this isn’t dire, now is it?”

            Pansy sighed heavily, looking between the three of them calculatingly. “I suppose not.”

            “Well.” Felix’s voice had them looking up and noticing the commander peering at them in interest. “Now that your odd powerplay is over, I have your schedules.”

            The sixth-year handed them out, paying attention to Harry and Draco more so than the others. “You two interest me.”

            Harry hummed in thought, taking in the almost disinterest in the boy’s face. “I am undecided as to whether or not we care.”

            Felix barked out a loud laugh, smile lighting up his face. “Oh, Potter, I like you.” He shook his head as he continued down the aisle, still amused.

            “That’s surprising,” whispered Draco, winking when Harry glared at him. Despite it being a joke, it was the truth. There weren’t many people who liked him, not that he particularly cared about that. Ties to other people are too constricting, not to mention distracting.

            A thoughtful noise had Harry looking to Neville, who was poring over their schedule with bright eyes.

            “We have a full day ahead of us.”

            Harry pulled his own schedule to him and looked it over. Charms, History of Magic, Potions and Herbology. _Potions_. He looked up to the staff table and watched Professor Snape eat in silence, glaring at students with suspicion. _Oh yes._ He was looking forward to this.

 

* * *

 

 

            As Harry watched Professor Flitwick teach, he observed the man closely. Contradictions were beginning to form the longer he stared. The man spoke in a kind tone but Harry could tell Flitwick could be the opposite if pushed. Detailed and expensive robes were worn in a way that had to have been special ordered. This was enough to have him realize that it was less about the style and more about the size. Being a partial Magical Creature in a judgmental society would be hard, he thought. He doubted the professor would be able to get robes unless they were special ordered.

            Flitwick had a nervous aura to him but Harry wondered if that was for show. There were times that the man held confidence in his teachings but a simple question could make him flustered. Power radiated outwards in a way that wasn’t typical of a wizard. Harry suspected it was the Goblin influence. He knew Goblins didn’t share their magical advances with wizards, and it made Harry quite curious. Just what did the Goblins know? It was nearly impossible to tell if the wizard portion of the magic detected was light magic or dark magic. The Goblin influences nearly camouflaged it all.

            Knowledge itself was obviously something Flitwick had in spades. Harry wouldn’t have needed anyone to tell him the man was the Head of Ravenclaw house. Keen eyes seemed to be able to observe everyone at once. This professor may not be outwardly as stern as McGonagall, but rules would matter to him. 

            There was something about Flitwick that left Harry wanting more. It was frustrating to see contradicting facets and not knowing which is the truth.    

           Charms itself was an intriguing class. Despite the way Professor Flitwick had toppled over in excitement at having Harry as a student, the man was knowledgeable, which was what Harry had been hoping for. Incompetent teachers wouldn’t sit well with him.

            Nothing is ever perfect, and Harry could see the downfall of Charms. The class as a whole could be useful _if_ it was taught in an inclusive way. There were several dark charms that would work just as well as the ones being taught. There were some that even surpassed the things Flitwick was teaching. If only the class material wasn’t so set in stone. Why did magic have to be seen so one-sided?

            Harry tried not to be disappointed but it would seem that he was going to have to do a lot of research on his own, especially if he was going to have a wholesome education. Most of the dribble being taught wasn’t worth it. None of this was going to help in the long run.

            “Let us practice wand movement.” Flitwick’s voice made Draco and Neville groan. Coming from magical families, his friends would already have the knowledge of the basics. None of this was useful for them. He wondered why Hogwarts didn’t have a summer course for those of muggle families. What was the point of starting them with other students who already know the basics? Wouldn’t it be discouraging to come into a world with little knowledge? He was aware there was a Muggle Studies class for wizards but why was there no counterpart for muggleborns coming in with no knowledge of the wizarding world? If Harry _hadn’t_ learned things on his own, then this _still_ would have been too simple. Wand movements were in the lessons. If people showed up to Hogwarts unprepared, then that was their own fault.

            As the class began fiercely moving their hands in the proper method, Harry debated whether it would be insulting to read a book instead. Belatedly, he wondered when he started to care about silly things like offending someone else.

            “Oh, that’s a good one.” Draco’s head rested on Harry’s shoulder as they both looked over the book in his hands. “Plot twist in Chapter 14.” There was laughter in his tone and Harry had to fight a smile.

            “Draco, I highly doubt _Charms 1149: Simple but Dark Spells to End Mass Hysteria_ has a plot twist.” Light laughter shook Harry’s shoulder as his friend couldn’t contain it.

            “Shows what you know.” Draco countered in a haughty tone. “Wizards back then were prone to dramatics, especially purebloods. The secrecy of our world was becoming harder to hide. You’ll see the creative ways they countered this. No worries, I won’t spoil your riveting novel.” Keeping a straight face through _that_ was surely something Harry admired. 

            Harry couldn’t help but tease him. “Nothing has changed, I take it. Your level of dramatics could rival anyone’s.”

            “I find myself strangely proud of that.”

            Before Harry could respond a clearing of the throat prompted him to peer up at Flitwick.

            “I find myself wondering why neither of you are doing the assigned work? Both of you should take after your classmate.”

            They both looked to where Flitwick was gesturing to Neville. Their friend was concentrating on doing the proper wand movement with a fierce concentration.

            It wasn’t until the professor left their table that Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

            Neville smiled mischievously. “I saw him coming. Didn’t want to interrupt your _important_ discussion.”

            Harry huffed a laugh when Draco looked irritated but also proud.

             “You managed to keep Flitwick from taking points away _and_ make yourself look better than us at the same time.”

            The statement had Neville leaning forward, wide grin forming. “I suppose it’s your natural Slytherin charm that I am picking up on.”

            Draco harrumphed. “If you think I am falling for your shameless flattery, then you are wrong.” Despite his rebuttal, Harry could tell that his friend was pleased.

            It would seem that Neville was far more Slytherin than he originally thought.

           

* * *

 

 

            Five minutes into History of Magic and Harry _knew_ this would be his most hated class. History can be fascinating if told correctly, but this? All of this was nonsense.

            Professor Binns was more interested in reciting passages from outdated scripts than he was about actually teaching the next generation of wizards. The course list was laughable and the facts being skewed were only in the viewpoint of people who had no witnesses. It baffled him that just because something is written as a fact, that others believe it full heartedly.

            There was so much erasure of historical feats and discoveries that it angered Harry. It wasn’t just accomplishments of Dark Wizards that was left out of the preapproved texts, it was also the feats of Magical Creatures that were ignored. What was with this society? Why would the glaring truth be covered up until a doctored and garbled mess was left behind?

             Harry wanted to provide all the students with more information and let them decide for themselves. Was it really teaching if they provided false information or falsities covered in stretchable illusions? No. This was bordering on the side of trepidation. How many generations of wizards are only given a fraction of true history?

              If the children are not taught of the past, then history will always repeat itself. 

 

* * *

 

 

             The walk to the dungeons was calming in a way. Hogwarts was full of unpredictable antics. Staircases that move unexpectedly, doors that refuse to open, walls that pretended to be doors and an annoying cat that seemed to follow him everywhere.

            A few Gryffindors were complaining about the cold and the desolate atmosphere, but Harry preferred this over the opposite. Colors don’t mean joy. He was able to be at peace in the dungeons. Something he has yet to experience anywhere else inside the school.

            “What do you suppose Snape will be like?”

            Harry glanced at Granger when she spoke. He was still curious as to the potential to her. If only she wasn’t so rigid in her ideas that books were the only truth that was set in stone. He heard Draco sigh and knew that he was the only one of that belief.

            “He’s a real prick.” The redhead that was _clearly_ related to Fred and George spoke up. Up close, he still held his observations of yesterday to be true. There was still a nervous energy to him, still an unsure aura, but there was more to Weasley than that. Harry just had to find it first. 

            It would seem that contradictions were popular today. As Harry stared at Weasley, he noticed there was an intelligence to him—perhaps an internal intelligence—one that doesn’t come out often. The boy’s eyes were traveling the length of the corridor in interest but there was no surprise in his features. This was someone who had either been here before or had the place already regaled to him. His guess was older siblings.

            Weasley’s stance wasn’t very confident, which didn’t make sense when one took in the other observations. Someone of his blood status and knowledge of the wizarding world shouldn’t be so demure. It wasn’t until he noticed that Weasley’s eyes lingered on students with significant wealth that it made sense. A remarkable number of wizards with a pureblood status were of wealth. If Weasley was self-conscious of this, then that could account for his behavior. Wealth does not equal worth. Perhaps Weasley would one day realize this.

            “Fred and George say he favors the Slytherin house.” Weasley continued, unaware that his voice was so loud.

            “Perhaps,” A dangerous tone had Ron paling dramatically. “Your brothers are imbeciles and can’t brew a simple Pepperup potion.”

            Draco snorted loudly, as well as a few Slytherins when Weasley spun around to see Snape standing at the door to the classroom.

            “S-sorry, sir. I meant no disrespect.”

            A noncommittal noise escaped Snape as he stood back and gestured for everyone to enter.

            Harry looked around the room as Snape called out the names of the students for attendance. He took in the low-lit atmosphere with interest. It would make more sense for the place to be well lit, but he supposed Snape was going for aesthetics rather than practicality. A few jars filled with ingredients marinating had him quite curious. Potions was a skill that didn’t necessarily require a whole lot of knowledge before participating. Following instructions—however basic it may sound—was the beginning tactic in mastering the course. Reading behind the ingredients and how to improve potions would go far. This was a class where the basics were given but would take upkeep to truly understand.

            There was a slight pause when the professor came to his own name, but Harry took it in stride. It wasn’t as if the other teachers hadn’t done the same. At least Snape hadn’t fallen off the chair like Flitwick had.

            “In this class, you will be required to use your brains.” There was a pause as his eyes narrowed across the room. “Whether any of you have any will remain to be seen.” Harry noticed that Granger sat up straighter, as if determined to prove that she had brains.

            “You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. The belief that all things magical _have_ to include foolish wand-waving is a dangerous belief. There are potions I can teach you that will be far more disastrous than a single spell. Potion making is not as simple as it seems. If one can follow directions, you will be mediocre at best.” Snape impossibly narrowed his eyes further, looking at several students in particular.

            “Spells tend to be flashy, distracting and bright. There is little comparable to a soft simmering cauldron and shimmering hues, to the direct brash of a wand. There is beauty in the delicate power of liquids that filter through the veins. With potions, I can bewitch the mind, ensnare the senses and even bottle flame. There are ways to brew glory, stopper death and create _wonders_.”

            Harry could tell that there was pride in Snape when it came to the subject of his teaching. That potions meant something to the man. He didn’t doubt that all teachers held a certain fondness for their respected fields, but Snape seemed to take a personal interest in them. Something that went further than most.

            “Get out your books, you will be brewing a potion to cure boils. A simple one. Should you mess it up, it will set the tone of my belief in you.” Harry shook his head as he bit his lip. What a curious way to teach. It wasn’t exactly comforting, but he didn’t particularly care for comforting.

            As the class scrambled to get their ingredients, Harry and Draco patiently waited for the rush of students to leave. It was of no use to hurry; the ingredients would remain to be there. Success didn’t equal the first to arrive.

            Harry made sure to move until he was between Draco and Neville. While he was confident in Draco’s abilities, he was not aware of Neville’s strengths just yet.

            “I got enough for all of us, you ungrateful gits.” Draco threw down the ingredients, flopping down with a huff.

            “What’s with him?” Neville whispered, grabbing a third of the snake fangs.

            “Someone forgot to give him attention,” Harry whispered loud enough that he knew Draco would hear him. “Draco is akin to a plant. Only, his nutrients aren’t water, he needs attention to thrive.”

            An offended gasp had Harry biting his lip to keep from smiling. He pulled his own snake fangs to him before breaking them into multiple parts. “Harry, you are lucky you are my best friend.” The warning was said with a twinge of amusement, which Harry knew meant that he wasn’t in trouble.

            Harry rolled his eyes as he set his broken pieces into the mortar and pestle and began crushing them. When it came to weighing dried nettles, he bypassed the scale and held them up to the light, deciding which to add in.

            “Potter.”

            Harry looked up, not entirely surprised to see Snape standing in front of their table. “Explain your method.”

            The request had Harry looking to his friends to see if he had somehow done something different. Neville had followed the instructions in the book to the tee, while Draco had veered off as he himself had, just differently.

            A silence settled around the room and Harry realized that he was the center of attention. _Lovely._

“I broke the snake fangs into pieces before crushing them to save time,” Harry explained despite it being obvious. “The nettles weigh so little that it would give off a false reading in the scales. I just did the math in my head and used deduction to surmise the rest.”

            Harry could tell that Snape was reluctantly impressed, which was going to become one of his favorite things to do to the man.

            “If you are wrong in your assumptions? What if you put in too little or too much nettle?”

            Being questioned while others were not, was perhaps not fair. But Harry didn’t expect anything less of the professor. Especially not with the knowledge that Snape had issues with Harry already.

            “The next ingredient to enter my potion will be Horned Slugs.” Harry picked up the ingredient and held it up, demonstrating it as if Snape had no idea what it was. He heard Draco snort, but he had to actively keep a smirk at bay in response. “Which are rather absorbent. If I put in too much, then an extra slug would offset this.”

            A few confused noises could be heard from students behind him and it had Harry shaking his head minutely. It wasn’t as if he had to go far to learn this. It was all in the books. All one had to do was read them. Studying the ingredients themselves was far more important than the instructions of a potion. Because a potion can always be tweaked, always be messed with. The ingredients themselves aren’t as lenient.

            “If I put in too little, then the potion wouldn’t turn the correct shade of green. A few sprigs of nettle would fix this.”

            There was a long pause as Harry felt himself being sized up. He could tell that Snape wasn’t sure what to make of him. It was clear that he was not what the man had been expecting.

             “One point to Slytherin.”

            A billowing of a cloak and the man disappeared down the aisle.

            “One point.” Neville derisively snorted. “Fat lot that will do us. _One point._ ”

            Harry elbowed him playfully. “Hey, I didn’t see you earning any points there. 

            “Yes, we should all be grateful that you mercifully got us _one point_ ,” Draco added, laughing as he dodged a stray Horned Slug.

            “Idiot!” Snape’s harsh tone was the only warning they got before the room was enveloped in clouds of acid green smoke.

            “Someone didn’t add their porcupine quills correctly,” Draco whispered, standing up on his stool when a rush of an unknown potion spilled outwards.

            “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?” Snape didn’t bellow, but his tone might have as well been one. The anger was enough to have several people backing away slowly.

            Harry watched Weasley and Finnigan clutching their hands as boils erupted all over the skin.

            “Granger, take them up to the hospital wing.”

            As Snape began cleaning up the room, vanishing the vile potion and applying healing salves for those who had been barely hit by the liquid, Harry realized that the professor was far more interesting than originally perceived. His Head of House was far from the descriptor of welcoming warmth, but Harry wouldn’t be very kind if he had to teach idiots either. Teaching wasn’t something that interested him and he was beginning to think the same applied to Snape. Which begged the question, why was he doing it? One class was enough to show him that Snape didn’t care for teaching one bit.

            What was _really_ keeping Severus Snape a teacher at Hogwarts? Harry had a feeling that his entire perception of the man was only a tiny fraction of the true wizard underneath it all.

            And wasn’t that just _fascinating?_  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I am going to try and respond to all of your messages on the last chapter this morning but it might be later tonight that it actually happens. It's 6:30 in the morning and I am still awake. What even is sleep? Seriously, someone let me know. 
> 
> I do realize that Snape's speech was more of a monologue in a way. But the things he was saying were actually really important. I do think that when being placed in a house that is vilified a lot, that a meeting would be needed to address this. They really only have each other, that was the whole point of his speech.
> 
> Yes, only part of the classes were in this chapter. I couldn't fit it all in there. So that will be part of next chapter. I do believe that will also begin some time skips? I don't know. I'll flesh that out when I get to it. 
> 
> I do hope you all enjoyed this. I am NOT abandoning this story. I am still here. I love you all. And thank you for sticking with me. I will endeavor to try harder. 
> 
> -XxTheDarkLordxX


End file.
